Gaishū Isshoku
by Transformette
Summary: Years ago, he defeated him with a single blow. / It's Madara versus Hashirama; this time, in court, with Madara as the prosecutor and Hashirama as the attorney. Nobody knows how they met, but they seem to have a lot of history. / AU, MadaHashi.
1. Wreck of a Man, Observations

**_Dance with the Devil_**

* * *

_TFette: This fanfiction is (kind of) a finished one, so I'll put up new chapters every week, alright? It won't just stop. Like many of my other fanfictions, ehehehe. It's an AU story featuring the 1st Konoha generation. See this as crack, as romance, as anything you want, just remember to have fun! Maybe cry a little! Hahaha, I can't believe I'm posting this. _

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Sadly. Kidding! I own a Fullmetal Alchemist pillow. _

_You know the drill. If I owned Naruto, it'd be called Madara._

_Warnings: Language, dangerous criminals, Madara's screwed up mind. I'd like to add that this fanfiction is basically canon-friendly, storywise and characterwise. Don't be surprised by something you already know, hehhehe ;P_

* * *

**Chapter One: Wreck of a Man, Observations**

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

_Bloody hell._

A grunt, a creak of the mattress. Soft footsteps on the mahogany floorboards.

The tall man slowly made his way to the bathroom, feeling the wall not to fall over in the complete darkness. _Dark, dark, dark. Why the hell is it so dark. _Madara had never been afraid of walking around his penthouse without the lights on, but with his clothes scattered on the floor and the table flipped over, it was starting to feel slightly risky.

His toe hit the table. He cursed nastily.

Finally! The switch by the open bathroom door. The bright light blinded him, making him close his eyes.

When his pupils adjusted, he lifted his eyelids carefully. The first thing he saw was his own reflection in the huge mirror - an angrily twisted face, bags under his empty, black eyes, and a huge mane of long dark hair. It stuck out in all directions, falling down to his lower back, and the long fringe was constantly getting in his eyes and mouth.

"Damn it.", he muttered, running his fingers through it (or rather, through the first ten centimeters, as it was too tangled further down) to get it out of his face.

He constantly promised himself he'd cut it.

However, once, years ago, a certain person told him his messy long hair looked good.

From that day, Madara couldn't force himself into getting rid of it, however he tried.

He slammed his fist down on the tap, making the water stop. He'd left it partially raised, and it had been bothering him all night.

Surrounded by blessed silence, he walked back to his huge bed, carefully avoiding the table. His duvet was made of the finest silk and the lightest feathers, but if felt cold. The Uchiha family was one of the wealthiest in America - his penthouse was located in Los Angeles, he owned a private jet, somewhere around a gazillion fancy cars and to outsiders, it seemed Madara Uchiha had the means to do anything.

But, that was bullshit. Madara was impossibly bored.

He searched for a proper job, but nothing could make him feel _needed, _nothing could _satisfy _his taste. It took him a long time to finally make a decision.

He became a prosecutor when he was twenty-something. And that - the court - was where he first met that bastard.

Hashirama Senju was an advocate. And attorney. Who, by some strange luck, usually ended up against the Uchiha. Call it destiny or whatever you want, to the two it never really mattered.

Madara pushed the thoughts out of his mind. Hashirama... Wasn't relevant anymore. He was out of Madara's life, and-

* * *

_"Shush."_

_"Hashirama!"_

_"Quiet, they'll hear us.", the other man giggled as he held the stall door shut. Madara frowned, crossing his arms on his chest, trying to save the melted remains of his dignity. Locked in a toilet stall together... Honestly._

_"Do you always have to be so childish?"_

_"Really, shut up.", Hashirama clasped his hand over Madara's mouth and after firmly pushing his back against the cabin door, put his feet on the toilet on each side of Madara. That way, he wasn't visible from outside. Though Madara guessed it wasn't the most comfortable of positions._

_He felt his cheeks stinging._

_"This is-"_

_Hashirama smiled, his deep brown eyes shining, and stopped his babbling with a kiss._

_Madara had learned to hide his happiness even from himself. He'd lost three brothers, and for a long time, he felt guilty each time he smiled. He felt wrong. He felt worse and worse and the pain and it_

_And then came the light._

_Shining onto the lost, lonely devil._

* * *

"Out.", Madara hit his forehead.

It is common knowledge that if one wakes up in the middle of the night, one is bound to start thinking through all their life choices. This wasn't different for Madara Uchiha. And nothing annoyed the man more.

Madara didn't want to listen to his own thoughts. He didn't want to hear Hashirama's voice like he'd only lost him yesterday. How was that even possible? How was it possible for him to recall the exact tone, the exact twist of his lips, everything, everything-

He growled, kicking off the duvet, and slipping his headphones on. Eyes narrow from the phone's light, he picked out a random song and tried his best to fall asleep.

Anything to knock those beautiful, kind brown eyes out of his head. He knew that colour so well, how was that possible, he knew it not only as it was normally, he knew it like his own brother's, he knew how evening light lit those brown eyes up, and he knew the smile...

He was woken by someone violently shaking his shoulders.

"Madara, hey!"

"Ngn... Hashi...?"

"What are you-? Ah, whatever. It's me. Your little brother.", came the not-so-cheerful reply.

Madara slowly opened one eye and saw the young man leaning over him. Izuna was dressed in a black suit and a navy blue tie, with a fancy something on it. Madara didn't even know what it was exactly, he just knew it was expensive. He wasn't a stingy fellow, but that money had come from their dead father's bank account. Izuna was shameless.

"What time is it...?", Madara muttered, deciding to let it slide this time. This wasn't normal for him. It was just that he couldn't get really angry at his brother. He was the only one he had left.

And the worst part was, he wasn't playing an emo kid. Madara Uchiha had hundreds of far relatives, but his mother, his father, his three brothers- were all dead. Izuna was everything, especially after Hashirama

After Hashirama

After Ha

STOP IT STOP, NO

"It's eleven o'clock", Izuna sighed. "Really, brother, you can't live like this.", he gestured around the trashed room. "You drink, you throw tables around-"

"Leave me be.", Madara stood up and stretched his arms over his head. He was wearing black trousers that hung loosely on his lips. Izuna frowned.

"Would you really-"

"Izuna, what are you doing here?", Madara asked without sparing him a look. He cracked his neck.

"I came to tell you I found you a job.", Izuna said, placing his hands on his hips. "So be thankful"

"I don't need you taking care of me.", Madara snarled, walking around the room in search of a comb. Izuna held it out in his hand. With a glare, the other Uchiha started threading it through his hair with a pained expression. The younger man sighed.

"Madara. Focus. It's the case of one Lizzy Renner. She killed a man with a pocket knife, supposedly in self-defence.", he tossed the file on the messy black bed and put his hands in his pockets. "Thought you'd like it."

"I'm not working at this time", Madara objected, and with a cascade of swear words, pulled the comb out of his mane. "Give it to somebody who cares about what happens to her. If she were an Uchiha, then perhaps, but..."

"Madara, come on.", the younger man sighed deeply. "You're so useless! All you do is sleep and drink. You're shabby and that THING on your head looks more like a tsunami wave than an actual hairstyle."

"Shut up, it looks good.", Madara said, finally done. "Izuna, fine. I'll take a look at the case."

"Hm, that's unlike you. I thought you'd need more convincing."

A small smirk appeared on Izuna's face, as he pulled an envelope out of his pocket and started fanning himself with it delicately.

Madara's brow twitched.

"What is that?"

"Just a few bucks..."

"Give me."

"Naw!"

"Give me."

"Naw!"

"IZUNA!"

A few seconds of terrible violence later, the older brother had successfully aquired said few bucks. Rather than count, he slipped the prescious envelope under the duvet. Madara believed safes and banks were a stupid place to keep money in, as everyone knew where it was.

"Alright, I'll be going back to my office then.", Izuna ruffled his hair, trying to make it look as nice and glossy as it had a moment before.

"How are things with the police force?", Madara asked, sounding uninterested, but the truth was he liked being up to date. Having his younger brother as the chief of the police force was incredibly convenient. Hadn't Izuna volounteered to take a job, Madara would have pushed him onto the position himself.

Izuna ran his fingers through his hair one last time.

"Fine... I guess."

The older brother turned to him sharply. He knew when Izuna was lying, damn it, he'd been the one who _taught _him lying. And it seemed he was a poor teacher anyway, as the younger Uchiha was scratching the back of his head and avoiding his eyes like a kid.

"What kind of answer is that?", Madara snapped sharply.

"A short one.", Izuna headed for the door. "Just log into my account and check for yourself, the password is kaleidoscope-eyes-24"

"Idiot.", Madara muttered quietly under his breath, taking a mental note.

As soon as his younger brother was gone, Madara looked at the case file. Speedily, he read through the nonsense that was written in lawyer dialect or whatever you wish to call it, and focused on the case itself. Nobody cared about the beginning anyway.

However, the case itself was looking... Quite interesting, in fact.

Being the prosecutor, his duty was to sentence that Renner woman to a few years in prison. Madara was an arrogant and proud man, who'd proved himself many times. He was almost certain he would win this case. Despite his many years in the job, he knew only a handful of lawyers that could measure up to him... and only one that had a fair chance of beating him.

But that lawyer, that man... Madara was positive he'd never see him again in his life. He didn't want to. Of course he didn't. He didn't want to he didn't

_No, Hashirama, no, out of my mind. Leave me alone! Leave me!_

Madara had asked himself the same questions many times. _Why am I so obsessed with him? Why can't I forget a thing about him, why? Am I going insane?_

He quickly dressed himself in a black suit, a deep crimson shirt and a black tie. His classy shoes clicking on the floor, he left, holding a briefcase in his hand. A small Uchiha symbol was carved into it, rather than the surname itself.

It was a pleasant morning (let's not forget Madara saw morning as somewhere around 10-11 a.m.) and the buildings shone, reflecting yellow sunlight. It also wasn't bright enough to make him frown, and the gathering clouds bode a storm. Madara liked storms.

_Who would have thought this would be. What am I even doing as a prosecutor? Truly, I'd do much better in cage fighting._

He was often scolded for losing his temper in court, and yelled at for being arrogant and sometimes (but just sometimes) violent. Madara didn't have an issue with this, as long as he got paid.

Despite his negative personality and lack of manners, Madara wanted a safe, cleansed world. He wasn't _evil, _for goodness' sake. Although he sometimes enjoyed yelling and punching _a little _too much, deep down, he still believed in peace and general hippie happiness.

Or something.

But then, he'd never thought anyone in his line of business could be happy. Being a lawyer gave him anxiety and made him ridiculously easy to anger, all he thought about was his case and documents and paperwork and paperwork and paperwork. His mind was dark, he suffered from insomnia and probably a palette of severe mental disorders he wasn't aware of or simply didn't give a shit about them. He had had three brothers brutally taken away from him. This kind of thing leaves scars.

On the other hand.

Hashirama Senju was positive and lighthearted. Madara had no idea who he was or where he'd come from, he had no idea that Hashirama had his brothers taken away as well, he had no idea Hashirama was so much like him and at the same time so very different.

No, at the time, Hashirama was his enemy. And, as if to annoy him more, he was unbelievably confident, polite, perfect _perfect _with a laugh and a _smile _that could win anybody's heart, be it the judge, the jury, the client- Madara was positive that if Hashirama only tried hard enough, he could get the criminal to walk into a prison cell willingly. Hashirama had not only enough talent to measure up to Madara, he had more. And it angered the Uchiha, it angered him terribly.

As soon as they left the hall after their first case, they started arguing. When it almost got down to punches, Hashirama asked if Madara wanted to have lunch with him.

To his own shock, Madara agreed.

* * *

All his memories were ash. He did everything to push that man out of his mind - he tried to convince himself _he _was miles away, not even sparing him a thought, not _caring, _not _missing, _not _lusting_

Madara blinked furiously. And focused on his case file.

"Good morning", he walked up to the first person in sight. "Today is the first meeting, I presume?"

"Yeah. I'm Sawyer, hi", Madara immediately guessed him to be a lawyer. "I'm sorry about not contacting you earlier, but the last prosecutor left when he found out who was Renner's attorney."

Sawyer was shorter than Madara. He was also red-haired and gave the impression of someone who had no idea what he was doing.

The Uchiha frowned.

"What a coward", he said in an unemotional tone. "Who's that attorney, then?"

"Senju"

Madara's heart stopped beating. For a few moments, he tried to remember how to breathe, and when he finally did, it was just as hard to spit out the loathed name.

"You don't mean... Hashirama Senju?", his voice was hoarse.

The lawyer laughed. Nervously.

"Don't tell me you're gonna leave too? Oh man, what a mess..."

"No.", Madara clenched his jaw. "I'm going to crush him."

Despite his shock, he wasn't going to act like a little girl. He wasn't going to fall apart. He was going to win this case... Prove that bastard his worth. Madara desperately wanted to be acknowledged as an equal. This gave him a reputation of a particularly fierce and unforgiving prosecutor, especially against _that _man. It didn't matter what he _felt, _it didn't matter that all his thoughts of Hashirama being far away were bullshit and it certainly didn't matter he was _so close so close he could almost feel him_

He chased the thoughts away, once more, for what seemed like the hundredth time, asking himself if he was going insane. Just a second ago, he'd had no idea Hashirama Senju was even in the same state as him.

And now, he had an advantage. Hashirama would be just as surprised as him... even if he wouldn't be as pained.

Madara was aware something was wrong with him. You could say he'd gotten used to it. This evened the odds, and he was already regaining his confidence. After what Hashirama had done, defeating him would mean all that more. And oh, the blissful satisfaction to come...

"Let's do this.", the lawyer patted him back. "Go. After all, you're Madara Uchiha."

The raven-haired man cleared his throat. Then, he pushed the large doors open with both hands.

"The prosecutor; Madara Uchiha.", informed somebody. "We can begin."

"Your Honour", Madara looked the judge straight in the eyes. She was a middle-aged woman with brown hair and turquoise eyes, her hair clipped on the back of her head. Madara sought out weaknesses, and started forming a strategy.

_No ring, no husband. Lonely? Desperately trying not to fall apart. Much... much like me, isn't she?_

"Your Honour.", mirrored another voice, and Madara turned around against in his will.

Bang.

Hashirama was satisfyingly shocked, and he was staring at Madara with his (so good, so kind) eyes wide open.

Madara smirked, once more, not entirely aware of it. It came out kind of evil, so thumbs up.

"Hashirama Senju... Mrs. Renner.", he bowed shortly.

"Madara.", Hashirama's face brightened up in a smile, an absolutely truthful and natural smile. Ah, but Madara knew him too well. Hashirama was shaken. Just as shaken as him. It gave him a strange kind of satisfaction.

_What if I'm wrong. What if he really doesn't-what if what he said, it's-_

_shut up shut up shut up_

"I'm here to make sure Mrs. Renner is brought to justice", the Uchiha joined his hands behind his back.

"So am I.", Hashirama walked up. He was dressed in a grey suit with a deep green tie, his straight brown hair falling down his back. It was longer than Madara remembered.

"Please... May I voice my accusations?", Madara said, that 'please' being something he'd learned from Izuna.

The judge put a hand forward, allowing him.

Ah, good looks.

"Your client, Hashirama-", Madara began, but-

"Please address the other party by their last name. That goes for you too, Mr. Senju."

Hashirama laughed.

"It's okay, it's not disrespectful. We know each other very well."

"Thoroughly, I'd say", Madara growled.

Hashirama looked at him. Madara couldn't decipher that look.

The Uchiha cleared his throat and continued, quickly repeating the facts and making sure everyone understood his point of view. Even though it was his first time voicing his opinion, people were already nodding. He wasn't what one might call a smooth talker, but he had will and cunning. He knew that, and took advantage of it.

But...

When Hashirama started talking, he had the audience. He had a unique manner that never failed to piss Madara off. Anything he said, millions followed. If he told them to paint their asses blue and hang upside down from the ceiling, pretending to be candelabra, they'd surely do it.

A few years ago, Madara would have done it as well.

"Objection, Hashirama is leading the jury", he said, getting up from his seat.

"Disregarded.", the judge shook her head. "Mister Senju, continue."

_Shit, he's leading her too._

"Objection. Hashirama is leading the judge"

"Unless you want to be asked to leave, please refrain from dishonouring us.", the woman gave him a long look. Madara clenched his jaw and glanced at the other lawyers - they nodded, agreeing with him. Well, at least someone wasn't affected by Hashirama's silver tongue.

The court was going nowhere, as both Madara and Hashirama were extremely talented, in their own respective ways. The Uchiha, however, lacked a friendly manner and a confident smile - he was more of a wreck than the ever good-looking, lively Hashirama.

Finally, they were so mad at each other the discussion was sharp and nasty. Hiding behind words were insults only they could understand.

_You never did understand what it felt like to be alone!_

_You LEFT ME!_

Hashirama leaned in.

"I'd think you be a bit more understanding! Especially after what happened to your brother."

Madara shook with anger. He was talking about the brother that went to prison for life, and... Hashirama had remembered that. Had it been any other situation, perhaps Madara would have noticed. Had it been any other topic, Madara would have cared. But not his little brother. Blinded with anger, he felt he was going to punch the Senju any second.

He did the best thing he could think of.

"Your honour! May I ask for a brief recess?"

A pause.

"Fine. I'll see you all in fifteen minutes!"

As soon as she said that, Madara unceremoniously grabbed Hashirama's tie and pulled him out of the courtroom. He didn't care about the shocked looks he was receiving, he didn't care about anything but-

Stop.

Hashirama, with Madara's forearm crushing his throat against the wall.

"Long time no see", Hashirama smiled uneasily.

"Are you joking? You-"

Something gleamed in the corner of Madara's eye, and taken aback, he let the Senju go. His attention was drawn to Hashirama's finger... There was a ring on it.

Quite stupidly, he carefully analyzed this fact. Madara wasn't, of course, stupid. His brain just went into overheat, because it couldn't, wouldn't, shouldn't-

It just couldn't be.

"Are you married?"

His anger suddenly vanished, replaced by pure surprise. Now it was Hashirama's turn to just stand there, looking dumb. He finally opened his mouth, hesitated for a little more, then nodded.

"Yes, I am. Is something the matter?", he asked. _That bastard, acting all calm and mature like that._

"N-no", Madara hated himself for staggering. _Way to go. You're pathetic, Uchiha._

Hashirama had completely regained his composure, and was now looking at him critically.

"Seriously, did you think I'd live in celibate?"

"No, of course not", Madara shook his head.

This time, he didn't stutter.

"Don't you have anyone?", Hashirama put his hands in his pockets.

"No.", Madara gave him a cold glare.

There was a few seconds of silence, like they both wanted to say something, but couldn't. Or at least, this was Madara's side of the story. Because he wanted to. Except that his speech wouldn't be talking, it'd be punching and yelling and screaming.

_Just like a little girl._

"You know what? You're right.", Hashirama shook his head. "It's none of my business. You never liked me digging into your feelings", he said with a note of bitterness in his voice, despite his smiling face.

"What are you talking about?", Madara snapped.

"Whatever, it's really... Jesus.", Hashirama shook his head again, looking away.

They stood in silence. Madara wanted to be taller than him. He really did. Then he wouldn't feel like the Senju was looking down on him. Because he was, wasn't he. He'd never done it before. Madara remembered Hashirama; he was a cheerful, innocent boy, he'd suffered much, but somehow he managed to not only keep himself alive, but also Madara. In fact, Madara had always been top priority in the man's eyes. And now? Now, he felt like he was nothing.

He stared at Hashirama's large, brown eyes, at his dark skin and long hair. And he wondered, when had he changed? When? Because Madara hadn't. His hair was longer, his skin paler, but he still loved-

No, he didn't. He didn't! No!

How was it that the moment they met after so many years they were suddenly so close? It was like... it was like it'd always been like this, and...

But no. Now, there was something broken between them. A terrible thought struck Madara; what if he'd simply never noticed? His eyes were rumoured to see through any deception, but, what if he'd been so awfully blind all this time? What if that was the reason-

_No._

They should be talking about what had happened over all that time. Madara should be asking about Hashirama's new victim- _partner in life, _partner in life. They should be exchanging opinions about the case.

Madara closed his eyes. He had to do this right.

"What's her name? Or his?", he asked in a slightly forced way.

"Mito. Mito Uzumaki.", Hashirama cleared his throat.

"Oh.", Madara nodded. "That's a powerful family."

This gave him an idea. Perhaps, the marriage had been set up? Hashirama had made a reputation for his family, he even convinced some of his further relatives to become lawyers- Why wouldn't the Uzumaki family decide to have one of them marry a Senju?

_No, _Madara stopped himself. _I must stop thinking about this topic. It's certainly not my business anymore._

"Are you talking?", the same lawyer that greeted Madara joined them. "Whoa, never seen the attorney and the prosecutor chatting like that."

Madara and Hashirama looked at each other, then at him.

"We know each other."

"Like, from law school?"

"No.", Madara clenched his jaw and grabbed Hashirama's elbow, almost exploding at the sensation. "Excuse us."

"Why?", Hashirama narrowed his eyes.

Madara clicked his tongue in annoyance. Hashirama would get angry very rarely, usually picking Madara's way just to make it easier. Hearing a negative reply from him was probably as likely as hearing him swearing. Which was, you know, _unlikely._

"Honestly, grow up."

"You grow up! Have you looked in a mirror? You're a wreck. You should take better care of yourself!", Hashirama almost shouted.

The lawyer bit his lip and backed away, like he was in the presence of two lions about to rip each other to pieces.

"Kay... I'll just, you know, kind of..."

"As if you care!", Madara retorted, not taking any notice of Sawyer. "Hashirama...", it came out like a growl.

The brown haired man let him pull him out of view and into a secondary corridor. When Madara finally stopped, he threw a tantrum.

It wasn't like the ones he'd tried before. Before, Hashirama would just smile at him long enough to make him smile back. Before, Madara would yell anything that came to mind, he'd threaten his partner, punch him (never hard enough to really hurt him, but still), do anything that came to mind. Now, he was talking. He was saying everything he wanted to say.

And none of it, none of it, had anything to do with the case at hand.

When he was done, Madara threw his arms around his neck and hugged him, hiding his face between his shoulders.

He thought Hashirama would pull back. He didn't.

"Madara, what happened to you?", Hashirama sighed, delicately holding him.

"Everything."

Then Madara angrily freed himself, taking a step away. He was furious at himself for stupidly giving into his weakness.

In his heart he vowed it would be the last time. Without a word, he brushed past Hashirama and with a grim look on his face, returned to the courtroom.

* * *

_This is the first chapter, leave your thoughts in the review section. Mind you, this is going to be something of a mix between tragedy and fluff. Is that even possible? I don't know, you tell me._

_I know this ship isn't very popular, so if you want to see it as crack, go ahead. Fanfiction is written for all fans! There are going to be updates every week if you guys decide to speak up, so please do. _

_My name's Transformette, thanks for reading!_


	2. The Simplicity of Us

**Chapter Two: The Simplicity of Us **

_It's actually the 26th in New Zealand so whatev. __Brace yourselves, the fluffiness is coming. Sort of._

_REVIEW REPLY CORNER: _

_Dear Guest – feel free to leave me a name so that you know it's you I'm addressing __J__Yes, I know my characters may seem OOC, but I assure you there's a reason behind this. This story is set in the 21__st__ Century, and though I strive to keep their personalities intact, the characters' dialogues will be a bit different than in the manga. And anime. After all, canon-wise, they are 90+ years old, haha! While here I'm trying to make them 20-30 something... _

_You'll hear Hashirama saying 'Jesus', and Madara muttering 'dammit'. Tee-hee. And yes, I agree with you, HashiMada fans keep their presence a secret –w–_

* * *

"What's that look?", asked Izuna suddenly, making him jump.

Madara didn't like when people grew out of the ground behind him. Especially not when he was holding a coffee in his hand. He was surrounded by regular sounds and sights, the clinking of cups and spoons, light bumping off white tablecloths, people smiling, talking, and taking photos. Although the clouds were getting thicker, it was still warm. One could almost feel the tension hanging in the air before the storm, and that was what Madara loved.

"What are you doing here? I thought you were at work.", he wrinkled his nose, turning to his younger brother.

Izuna ignored him, and peered into his cup. It was his turn to put on a look of disgust.

"Real men don't drink latte", he said.

Madara shamelessly ignored that statement. He didn't, in fact, _like _latte. It wasn't about the taste anyway, it was about the smell, because when he was younger, Hashirama would always smell of latte and leaves and

_stop._

"Did you know Hashirama's the attorney?", he asked in a blank voice, staring into the distance as the warmth and smell went up into his face.

Izuna flinched, immediately recognizing that tone. He'd heard it many times before. And it angered him.

"Madara! Get over that bastard already!", he snapped. "You've been sulking for years, just deal with it. You and your queer lover-"

"Shut the fuck _up_!", Madara growled, almost breaking the cup in his hand.

Izuna made a pause, then squeezed the bridge of his nose with a sigh.

"Fine, sorry. That was too much. I just wish this mess would be over already, that's all.", he said, shoving his hands in his pockets and rocking on his heels adorably. "Madara, I hate to see you like this. I was going to say I was sorry for putting you on the same case as _him_, even without knowing it, but... I'm starting to think something good might just come of it.", he looked up, into his brother's dark eyes. "I just want you to be happy. Seriously."

Madara made an effort to keep his stern face on. He could really see Izuna was fed up with his moaning and groaning, and he was sorry, he really was- he'd never admit it, of course, but...

He sighed, and got up with his briefcase in hand.

"I don't know much yet, Izuna. All I want is to be free of this burden, to be able to take care of my family. That means you. I want us to be brothers, not therapist and client.", he rolled his eyes.

_You could be right about this case, Izuna. I'm a blindman who trusts others to be his eyes, but everyone sees differently. This is what happens when one spends too much time in the darkness. When the light reappears, it's not comforting anymore._

"I try."

Izuna looked sad. Madara felt guilty. He turned on his heels and left, on his way out dumping the coffee in a trash bin.

* * *

Two days had passed, and he was back in court.

Hashirama and his client were quietly discussing something. Madara passed them and went through his file again, finding more loopholes and inconsistencies. He knew what was going to happen as soon as he entered the hall. And he knew that this time, he had to be ready.

* * *

"Objection, Madara is acting on personal experience and he is using his own personal views."

"How can you know that?", the judge asked calmly. "Mr. Senju?"

Madara looked at him, panting with anger.

"Madara and I have discussed these things previously.", Hashirama explained without a hint of a blush, but Madara remembered the circumstances very well.

"I know quite well he's _not _being objective!", he said, pointing a finger.

The judge slammed her hammer down, apparently forgetting it wasn't meant to be thrust around like that.

"This is an absurd discussion. If you don't stop arguing, I'll ask both of you to leave!", she snapped, getting up from her seat and putting her hands on her desk.

This had, in fact, happened before, and Madara and Hashirama reacted before they could even think. It was just natural. Simple, obvious, _normal._

Both men smirked, crossing their arms on their chests.

"And how will the trial go without us?", Madara cocked an eyebrow. Hashirama glanced at him, then back at the judge, his eyes expressing the same thing.

The lady flamed, her face turning a bright shade of red. She slammed the hammer down again.

"How insolent! Mr. Uchiha, leave the room!"

Poof, just like that, she'd wiped the smile off the Senju's face. He took a step forwards.

"No! Your Honour, wait.", Hashirama said. "Madara is known for his arrogance and insolence... But he's an excellent prosecutor.", he swallowed, to Madara seeming actually sincere. "I'm sure he will behave himself"

There was a moment of silence.

Then, the judge sighed softly, and gestured with her hand. She had agreed. Hashirama and Madara faced each other once more, and talked in a calm manner for another hour. It seemed as if the heat had vanished from their conversation; they weren't _enemies _anymore, just _opponents. _At least this was what Madara made out of it. As far as Hashirama was concerned, Madara had stopped yelling. So that was good.

The client, as well as the rest of the small audience, was slightly confused after seeing the attorney defend the prosecutor, but Hashirama didn't even notice. It was a little childish, really - and Madara saw that. _So, Senju... you pretend you don't want me in your life, but, it's only a farce now, isn't it?_

They left the building side by side, Madara's long hair tangled by the wind. He had no idea how Hashirama managed to keep his so neat.

"Why did you defend me in court?", Madara asked. "I was ready to leave, to be frank. You had me pissed"

_Hashirama, why can't I understand you as well as you understand me?_

"You know I did it only to make the judge acknowledge how gentle and nice a person I am", Hashirama smiled.

Madara received an invisible punch in the chest.

"Eh... Yes. I didn't know you were manipulative", he glanced at him.

"Let's say I've changed", Hashirama blinked. "I'm not a cheery kid anymore."

The Uchiha looked down. He had loved that kid. Hashirama was older than him, but never the mature one... Until now. Madara, for the gazillionth time, felt like a stomping and screaming little girl, while this new Hashirama stood tall, towering over him.

"Hey, brighten up. You're awfully depressed", Hashirama woke him from his thoughts. "I don't want to argue with you, Madara. Tell you what... How about you come over for dinner to my house?"

The Uchiha's heard started pounding, but he soon realised this time it really _would_ be dinner. And with Hashirama's... With Hashirama's _wife_. His damn wife, a woman he _shared _a bed with, and-

Then, something dawned on him. _Awfully depressed? Who said that again? _Yes, it'd been Hashirama. And this did not fit Madara's scenario. It was always _him _saying that! It was always Hashirama being all bipolar and shit while Madara got angry and pointed it out, and why was he so different why had their roles changed so drastically

It was like someone had thrown Madara into a play and told him to act. Everybody knew their parts by heart; Hashirama, the judge, that damn _lawyer_- but Madara didn't. Madara was just trying to survive.

"Are you sure?", he muttered, staring at the ground.

"Yeah. Sure. Sixish, I'll email you the address", Hashirama gave him his brightest smile. "You look like you need some relaxation."

Bang, invisible punch again. Madara hated himself for being this easy to read, but he quickly started lying to himself. That the hug he shared with Hashirama before was nothing. That all the things he felt were an illusion. And that... That he could forget it all and just be colleagues with Hashirama Senju. And he needed to focus on the case anyway, and on Izuna, he needed to take care of Izuna because Izuna was his only family

And Hashirama had _left him left him left him _and Izuna had never done that, and would never do that, Madara knew because he'd been the one to bring Izuna up after their father's death...

He would take care of this. The right way. He'd put his feelings aside, and force his universe to spin around Izuna, not Hashirama. Because Izuna deserved it, damn it, and that that Senju bastard _didn't._

He put on a smile.

"Of course, you're right."

* * *

So that same day, at four p.m., he showered and washed his hair. He then dried it, tangling it a bit, but not too drastically, and found some suitable clothes. That was a problem. Jeans? Too casual. Suit? No way, too classy. He finally went with elegant black trousers, but not suit ones, and a jacket. He ignored the tie and undid the first three buttons of his white shirt.

With a deep breath, he looked at his reflection. He still seemed a bit of a wreck, but... Well. Nothing could be done.

He slipped a black watch on and checked the time. Five thirty.

He knew the address.

His phone rang.

He glanced at it, and although he'd deleted Hashirama from his contacts, he knew his number by heart. _Pathetic, that's just pathetic, you're damn Madara Uchiha_

"What?", he planned to ask, but his mouth moved against his will.

"Madara Uchiha, prosecutor", he said mechanically. He realised how much he'd concentrated himself on work... Hashirama had been so right.

"Hi, it's me."

Just like they'd been friends for years, and they hadn't! Hashirama didn't _deserve _to call him up and casually say 'it's me', and Madara wasn't _supposed _to know his voice so well, he wasn't _supposed _to recognize it and he certainly wasn't supposed to love it so much-

Great. And yet...

"I'm just checking if you got my email."

"Yes, I did. I'm on my way now", Madara got into the lift and sighed, listening to the soft music. It was a pleasant evening, the orange sun slowly setting over his apartment. The storm a few days ago had cleared the sky, leaving only a few loose strips of clouds that were slowly turning pink. Madara didn't like pink, but he liked sunsets. He liked sunsets, because-

His hands were sweaty on the wheel. The truth was, he was nervous - and he was hardly _ever_ nervous, for goodness sake, he was Madara Uchiha.

"Turn-left-", said the mechanical voice of his GPS.

"I know", he growled at it.

"Please-repeat-command-"

"Stupid thing! What are you, dalek?!", Madada snapped, hitting the control panel.

"Bzzhkkkhhhhr-"

"Shut up, I'm driving!"

He almost hit the car in front of him, causing a chain of honks. His already hurting head exploded with pain, it felt like a dubstep mix was on constant replay in his brain... He just wanted the entire world to shut up. To stop moving, talking, honking, breathing. To just stop everything and let him enjoy the silence.

He turned into the right street with grim determination on his face. Dubstep or not, he needed to do this. He needed to do it like a man, not like a heartbroken boy. He took a deep breath, slowly parking his black, expensive car in the driveway and getting out. The wind messed up his hair almost at once, he threaded his fingers through it and gave the building a determined glare.

_Fine. I'm coming, Hashirama. _

But;

The door was opened by a beautiful woman. She was about his age - dressed in pastel colours, leaning more towards green, but what truly attracted attention was the fire red colour of her hair. It wasn't ginger, it was pure red. Madara had known someone else with hair like that, he just couldn't quite place the face... an Uzumaki, for sure...

"Good evening. I'm Madara Uchiha.", he put a hand forward. This wasn't the time to be wondering who her hair reminded him of.

The woman shook his hand. Firmly.

"I'm Mito Senju.", she smiled brightly, making Madara feel nauseous. He couldn't get the image of her and Hashirama out of his head. "Hashi told me all about you."

_Hashi. Hashi. For God's sake, I'm about to kill this woman. _

"All?", Madara raised his eyebrows uncertainly, faking a smile.

This woman _married _Hashirama. This woman kissed him, and also-

"Most things!", came a nervous cry as Hashirama appeared as well, holding his hair out of his face. "Yes, most of them."

Aaahh, so gorgeous Mito didn't know her betrothed had had a little romance with a man. Madara smiled, slightly evilly. The woman didn't take any notice.

"Please, sit down.", she said. "Dinner is almost ready."

She then vanished in the kitchen. Madara had a talent for reading people (this didn't really apply to Hashirama) and, despite seeing Mito Uzumaki as someone who took away Hashirama, he had to admit she had the aura of warmth and kindess he'd only seen twice before in his life. The first person had been his mother, the second - Hashirama Senju himself.

Even when not treating him like his lover, Madara knew that the long discussions and the deep bond between them was more than something as futile as love. He wondered if it was possible for anyone else to have something like they did - most of all, he wanted to know if he had had such coversations with Mito. Madara knew for a fact he'd never be able to love someone else, but what about- what about-

Could he have just moved on and, most importantly, did he love this Mito woman, did he-

"Madara.", Hashirama's voice woke him up.

"Eh?"

"Listen, Mito doesn't..."

"Know. I know", Uchiha nodded, lowering his voice.

"What? How?"

Madara glared at him.

"I know the way you think. You can't escape from that."

"Well, that sounded menacing", Hashirama chuckled quietly. "Ha, that's just the way you are. You told me once... If you hadn't become a prosecutor..."

"I'd be a cage fighter", Madara finished.

"Yeah. And I..."

"... And you would be a farmer. You'd live at a small house lost between enormous gold fields, and you'd have lots and lots of trees.", Madara looked up dramatically. "With your Mito at your side!"

Hashirama was too surprised to notice the mockery and bitterness in Madara's voice. He was shocked the other man remembered; it had been years, after all, years of trying to forget, and Madara recalled every detail.

"Ugh... Yeah... That's what I told you. Right. You sure do remember a lot", Hashirama cleared his throat.

"What? I have a good memory.", Madara shrugged.

"Yes, I know"

Because that was really the point, wasn't it? They just _knew. _

"What are you men talking about?", Mito appeared with plates in her hands. She had one rested on the inner side of her elbow as well.

"We were just reminiscing", Hashirama smiled. "You see, dear, it's been years since Madara and I talked. And that business in court brought back memories."

And, just like that, Madara was hit by a flashback.

* * *

_"Hello, my name is Hashirama Senju... from Sarutobi & Shimura"_

_"Madara Uchiha."_

_"Uchiha? Wow, that's a great family.", the brown-haired young man beamed, shaking his head. "You sure are a respectable opponent."_

_Madara wasn't quite sure how to react back then. Usually two lawyers would act falsely kind and polite, in their minds going over ways of destroying one another, while this guy really seemed pleased. Madara wasn't a man easy to lie to, he saw through deception better than most. And, to his surprise, he hadn't picked out a single note of irony or sarcasm in Hashirama's tone._

_"L-likewise, I hope", he said, shocked at his own stutter. Madara never stuttered._

_This was how he first noticed that Senju made him feel very strange._

_"Have we met before? I feel like I kind of know you", Hashirama gestured with his hand._

_Madara cleared his throat._

_"You might have seen me on television.", he said. "It's true I was invited to a talk show or two"_

_"Right. You're rich", the other man laughed heartily. "Something to look up to for us poor little souls."_

_Madara felt his ears __sting._

_"Uh... I inherited the money. It's been in the family for many years.", he said, feeling he was being judged wrongly._

_Wait._

_Why was he explaining himself?!_

_He was Madara Uchiha. He didn't need to explain himself._

That was how they met. It was simple, really.

* * *

_A/N: This chapter was a bit short, wasn't it? Too bad! _

_About Mito; all we really know about the girl is that she was nice and kind. There's no way I'm shaping her into a Rin-clone, so Mito is going to be leaning more towards Kushina-Uzumaki-personality type. She won't be as hyperactive, though, and her hair will stay normal even when she's angered. _

_Mito is twenty-something in this story. She's a little older than Hashirama. Like, a year older. I don't know why this is important, I just thought you might want to know. _

_Also I apologize if anyone was offended by this chap... it's through Madara's eyes, folks, not mine. If Madara thinks lawyers are fake and unpleasant, that's what I write. If Madara thinks women are inferior, that's what I write. It sucks, but... hey. This gives space for character development! _

_Otherwise, spoiler (kind of) time. Next chapter I'll be introducing a new character and if you can guess who, cookie for you. _


	3. Subtext in his Words

**Chapter Three: Subtext in his Words**

_A/N: Thanks very much for your reviews. More Mito Uzumaki! I'm posting this chapter early, because tomorrow I'm leaving for a five day trip. Don't worry, chapter four will be there on time. Also, shoutout to the new follower - alittlemadness - who didn't review. Grr. Thanks for following, anyway, and I hope you're here to stay!_

_To Sunny271... WHY CHOPSTICKS... I feel very stupid for not knowing that. Also, Tobirama. Yas. White-haired anime guys? Yas. Very much yas. _

* * *

"Thank you for the invitation", Madara repeated something Izuna always said when then went places. He felt a little uneasy, as he'd never had to do that before, but he was determined to make a good impession on Hashirama.

"Oh, it's only natural.", the man replied. "Mito, Madara and I are working on the case of one Lizzy Renner."

"Oh? You mentioned that, I remember", the woman replied calmly. "Are you working with her or against her?"

She looked at both of them, which suggested she thought they were on the same side.

"I'm the prosecutor and Hashirama's her attorney.", Madara replied a bit grimly, folding his fingers on the table for a moment. Mito's lips formed an 'o' of surprise.

"You seem to get along very well", she said, raising her eyebrows.

"We do.", Hashirama smiled. Madara felt himself die a little. Here he was, after three years, in Hashirama's home, speaking with his wife. His _wife_. How did that ever happen? How did things change so much, and really, why? The only question bumping around in Madara's head was _why_. His courage went away suddenly when it came to actual asking or even guessing, he couldn't bring himself to it. He didn't know if he ever would.

_Is this how our relationship is going to look like from now on? Are we _going _to have a relationship after I win this case? Unfinished sentences, empty words, and the actual meaning of them hidden behind those deep, brown eyes. I wonder what he thinks about my eyes? Does he have as much trouble reading me as I have reading him? _

He was forced to take a second before speaking, only to remember what had been the topic.

"No one hires us as a team. We'd destroy the opposing side", he said, managing not to show any kind of emotion. "Isn't that right, Hashirama?"

Hashirama glanced at him, and Madara asked only that he wouldn't lose face. Not in front of _him_, not in front of his _wife_. He couldn't do that. And, most importantly of all, he couldn't lose focus and start staring at Hashirama with a stupid smile (this had happened before in various important business meetings, and to Madara, this was nothing short of an important business meeting). He was angry at him. He _hated _him. Why was being in his presence so soothing?

"Yes. Our families are usually put against each other, I think it's stupidity", the Senju spoke, still looking him straight in the eyes.

Madara glared down at the table.

"It's tradition"

Hashirama leaned forward as well, his eyelids half-lowered.

"Hm, conflict, always conflict", he sighed a bit teasingly. Mito giggled, but Madara barely even noticed. He looked at the Senju, looked at his lips. Looked at that beautiful, beautiful smile. It had always been what Madara loved most. Hashirama's smile lit up the room. Madara remembered finding it awfully annoying - he'd get irritated, never knowing quite why. Was it that Madara _wanted _a smile like that? No.

No, before they were together, Madara would rage each time Hashirama didn't smile at _him. _

"What...", he cleared his throat, remembering himself, "What am I supposed to reply to that?"

Hashirama pulled back, averting his eyes. He shrugged.

"Ha, I don't know. It's just a phrase I like"

Then Madara's attention turned to Mito Uzumaki. (He still refused to call her 'Senju'). The woman was sitting with her hands under her chin, food only slightly touched, and eyes fixed on Hashirama.

"You can be a real idiot, you know", she laughed finally, and Hashirama faked a sad face.

"Why?"

"If you don't like conflict, why the hell did you get into this business in the first place?", she asked, then looking at Madara. "You've known Hashi longer than me. Do you know?"

Madara stared at her for a few moments, dumbfounded. Never in his life had he seen a wife that _admitted _she knew her husband worse (or shorter) than anyone else in the entire universe. Sometimes, just sometimes, said lady would admit her dear husband's _parents _did. But even that was rare. And here was Mito, all 'hello stranger, I don't really know this guy, do you?'.

"Well, he... he once told me...", Madara blinked and sat up straight, focusing. "Hashirama believes in the make-the-world-a-better-place bullshit."

Hashirama pouted, unhappy about being excluded.

"You're skeptical", Mito's brow furrowed, she seemed curious. Madara was not comfortable with this. "Why did _you _become a prosecutor?"

"Certainly not for the same reason as Hashirama. It's just that this line of work is a bit less dangerous than cage fighting"

He smirked with satisfaction seeing Mito's confused expression, but his smile grew when he noticed Hashirama was grinning too. Yes, he remembered.

"Okay, okay you two, no inside jokes. I'm a bit of an idiot", Mito sighed and rolled her eyes. Then her gaze met with Madara's, and his brow furrowed.

She seemed a cheery and warm person, but that look she gave them was inquisitive. She was asking herself questions, and Madara felt even more satisfied - it was like hanging a banner saying 'there are secrets and memories between me and him. Ones you don't know about'. Once more, the lack of worry or irritation in Mito's eyes bothered him a little.

Mito looked... interested and curious. Pleasantly. Why was that?

Madara thought of himself as of a person that could see more than others. He now knew for sure Mito wasn't your regular rich-lawyer's-wife. He also noted that the bond between her and Hashirama was more like friendly chatting than a romance.

He didn't know if that was good or bad.

* * *

At the door, when Mito was in the kitchen washing up (as Madara believed every woman should) Hashirama stopped him with a small gesture.

It was dark outside, the nearest street light illuminating their faces. Madara glanced around to check for anyone walking by, but the only person outside at this hour was a teenage girl with her nose in a book. She didn't even seem to notice them.

"I know what you're thinking.", Hashirama said quietly, getting his attention. "You think it was a set up marriage"

"Wasn't it?", Madara shrugged, looking as bored and disinterested as he could.

"W-well...", Hashirama made a pause. "Yes, it was our families' decision. But Mito is a wonderful woman, and I've grown extremely fond of her. Do you understand?"

Ah, Hashirama had his serious face on. Madara, for a few moments, couldn't help a menacing smile. Then it vanished.

"If you think I still have any kind of interest in you, you're wrong. I may be a wreck", now Madara frowned a bit, "but don't be so arrogant as to think it's because of you. My universe doesn't revolve around you. My goal is, and always will be, to look after my family. It is everything."

_Lies, lies, lies. And he knows I'm lying, he could always see right through me. It's so pathetic. I'm pathetic. _

"I have a younger brother too, Madara. But... You mean just as much to me as he does, if not more. Even after our parting, I still value you. Unlike you, I don't sever bonds"

Madara's eyes widened, but only for a second. He blinked and put on his usual cold mask - inside, he was fuming. What was that supposed to mean?! It wasn't _Madara _that severed those bonds! If it had been up to him, he'd have never, ever-

Would he have?

He didn't know. But... but! It didn't change the fact that it had been Hashirama, that Senju bastard, who broke their relationship. So why was he back now?! _You mean as much to me as he does? _Wasn't that what Madara thought too, when comparing Hashirama and Izuna? But Madara _loved _Hashirama. Yes, he'd said it- thought it- never mind. The point was, how could Hashirama say he loved- was fond of- Mito Uzumaki, and still...

Unless, of course, Tobirama didn't mean very much to him.

"You can't have everything. I'll see you tomorrow, Hashirama.", Madara said finally.

He turned on his heel and walked away, headed for his flashy car. Hashirama watched him. _Does he really think he can hold me close to him with that woman still in his life? No, Hashirama. I don't share._

He kicked the pedal and with a screech, drove into the distance.

"A... Strange man", Mito put her arms around Hashirama's middle, joining him in the doorway. "He's... so cold. He's like your complete opposite, Hashi", she smiled.

"Yes, he is.", the man replied. "Curious, I wonder..."

_I wonder why I love him at all._

* * *

"What do you _want_ to do?", the next morning Izuna and Madara ate breakfast together in a small cafe by a bookshop. Well, _breakfast _meaning latte in a paper cup (in Madara's case) and a full English breakfast (in Izuna's). Madara was wondering how the _hell _the chief of police had all this time to spend with his moaning and bitching big brother.

But then again, that was Izuna's private business.

Madara took a sip (cough, a whiff) of his Latte.

"I want to win this case and make our family even greater.", he replied, staring at the case files.

Izuna snorted.

"And that's it? Brother, I may not approve of man loving man, but I know when you're lying about your feelings for that Senju. Go ahead and tell me"

Madara sighed deeply, putting the cup down and looking him straight in the eye.

"I don't know, Izuna. I don't. I was always certain where I was headed... But that was with him by my side."

"So, you need him to achieve your goal. Or rather, is he part of your goal? Madara, you need to_ tell me_"

Madara squeezed the bridge of his nose.

"Fine. In truth, without Hashirama, I am weak.", he said, but continued after a moment. "And... he's married now, so although I am known to be a cruel and merciless man, I-"

"You don't want to break the marriage. I get it", Izuna nodded. "It only proves you really _do_ love that Senju."

Madara frowned.

"This is a mess."

"'Tis."

"What should I do?"

"If I were you... Well, if I were you, I'd just be happy that he's happy."

Madara rolled his eyes.

"How pathetic. Hashirama can't be happy without me"

Izuna snorted with laughter. Madara's attention snapped back to him.

"What?", he barked.

"You're... So... So arrogant!", Izuna chuckled, rubbing his forehead. "Oh, my God."

The older brother angrily looked away, tucking his hands under his arms.

"Hn."

"Look.", Izuna was still grinning, but at least he'd stopped chuckling. "Madara. I can see you don't give up, but you've reached a stalemate. I think... If that Senju really cares for you... He's gonna break up with that girl soon."

Madara blinked, then looked away. But what if Hashirama didn't love him at all? On the other hand, he sometimes said things, that could be interpreted...

* * *

_You never liked me digging into your feelings, he said with a note of bitterness in his voice, despite his smiling face._

_You should take better care of yourself!_

_Madara... what happened to you? _

* * *

He ran his fingers through his hair and pulled it back with a sigh, closing his eyes.

"Izuna, you're wildly unhelpful."

"You know what, Madara? How about you just wait. Just talk to him for a little longer, and see how that works. You know... the be-his-friend strategy"

* * *

The next few days didn't change a thing. The case was going at a snail's pace, meaning they weren't sure it was going at all. Madara felt like their conversations were empty. Hollow. He wanted to stop Hashirama in the doorway, grab his wrist, pull him up, _tell him just tell him everything_

Madara Uchiha was a proud man.

He really was.

He had many things he wanted to do in his life. Some of his goals were more important than others, of course, but that didn't change the fact there were thousands of them.

Goal number one (or so he tried to convince himself) was protecting Izuna. Protecting his family. Living up to his father's expectations.

Goal number two (it wasn't that important, of course it wasn't) was getting Hashirama to join him again.

Goal number three was-

actually, it was a part of goal number two. Madara wanted to talk to Hashirama without an audience. Or at least, with a _smaller _audience than in the courtroom, and an audience that wasn't Mito Uzumaki. They needed, they needed a chaperone. Because when two people who _used to _be very close to one another (and one of them is married) are left alone together, it might turn out the wrong way.

Like Izuna had said, Madara didn't want to _seduce _Hashirama or anything of the sort_. _He didn't. And he wouldn't be very good at it even if he tried, anyway. That Mito woman really meant nothing to him, but, she meant something to Hashirama...

Madara knew that man better than anyone else. The only way to really hurt the Senju was to hurt someone close to him. And Madara didn't want to hurt him. No.

It was all useless and pointless and _abstract _anyway. Who could play that chaperone in the first place? Izuna? No, Izuna couldn't stand Hashirama.

Madara stopped thinking.

"And I was like, sooo sloshed, dude, I don't even remember..."

Who... who was that?

"Shut up", that was his own self speaking.

"And I talked to a chick, her last name was Hyuuga, so I totally remember, man..."

Oh. That was Sawyer.

"Powerful family.", Madara muttered. He would have said that at any family at this point.

"Tis? Ah. Didn't know.", Sawyer hiccuped. "…Come to think of it, so is the Senju one, innit?"

Madara rolled his eyes.

"Bullshit, Hashi's not that well-known.", he drawled, and took another swing.

Sawyer gave him a half-present, very clueless look.

"About that, y'two seem to be gettin' along, ah…?"

"Sawyer, can I tell ya something?"

"…Yeah?"

"I'm actually gay."

"...Way to make it aw-aw-awkward, man..."

"Seriously. Don't worry, I don't find you attactive."

"Oh…that's a relief… I think"

"It's just that… I... and Hashirama... well, we..."

"...Shit, man."

He stared emptily into the distance. Someone was looking at him. He didn't have the energy to move his damn eyeballs.

* * *

_"Madara."_

_That was a soft whisper. Had he fallen asleep? Had he slept with someone? Shit_

_"Madara"_

_Again. That was Hashirama's voice. _Madara knew, because he...

He slowly opened his eyes to see the counter before him. Was he still in the bar? Shit... What the hell was Hashirama doing here, why was he...?

A soft sigh.

"What have you done to yourself _now_?"

* * *

_A/N: Please allow me to whine in the A/N space... *groans for 17 hours*. Work. Work. _

_I have to type something here... so, everyone, do you like Tobirama? Do you think that Minato is a plagiarising bastard? Review. _


	4. Kiss

**Chapter 3.5: Kiss**

_A/N: Confused much? I'll be doing this some more, because I figured putting in these small extensions would be nice. Chapter Four comes out next week with something y'all have been waiting for. No spoilers, nah. Eh :(_

* * *

Madara woke with his hand already halfway raised.

He wasn't completely certain he was awake. His eyesight was worse than ever and the back of his head hurt like hell, even though it was rested against something soft and smooth. When he finally managed to focus on the face leaning over him (he didn't need to. He already guessed who it was) he let out the air his lungs were bursting with.

"How much _did _I drink...?", he muttered in a hoarse voice, and immediately took his hand away from Hashirama's face. He then rolled over and tried to hide his face in the velvet pillows, but someone stopped him gently.

"Too much", came a considerately quiet answer. "Please don't do that again"

"It's nothing new...", Madara grumbled, yielding to the demanding hand and turning his head once more to look him in the eyes.

Hashirama swallowed.

"Madara."

The truth was, though Madara couldn't know this, was that Hashirama thought he looked beautiful. Raven black hair tangled and messy among the shining pillows, eyes slowly regaining their glow as he came to. Hashirama sat on the edge of the huge bed, leaning over him, staring at him, shamelessly _admiring _him.

To Madara, it looked like the Senju was doing nothing but judging him.

"Get out", he growled, clenching his jaw until the muscles on it showed. Hashirama blinked, surprised.

"Huh?"

Madara opened his eyes again to glance at him. He was sweaty, and though rusty, Madara's mind started dully figuring out Hashirama had probably carried him here. Contrarily to his, Hashirama's brown eyes gleamed. They were warm and beautiful. The one thing Madara couldn't explain (and so, refused to see) was the red tint to his cheeks.

"Get out, I don't want to dream about you again.", he added and bit his lip.

"You... you dream about me?"

"Idiot.", Madara said in such an obvious tone he could have just as well said 'duh'.

Hashirama straightened up and calmly, in a professional manner, placed his hand on Madara's forehead. Through a dimly lit memory Madara remembered Hashirama had always been interested in medicine and biology, so it made sense that he... that he...

Madara blocked out the persistent and loud thought in his mind that said Hashirama's touch was not only soothing, but also _caring_. Not just _checking _his forehead, but delicately stroking it. But no, it was gone after a second, and so was the warmth in Hashirama's eyes.

"You'll be alright, just get a good night's sleep."

He then got up from the bed, making it creak quietly. Madara wanted to shift to a sitting position, but found it was impossible - his whole body was incredibly heavy.

"Hashirama!", he tried to call him back, making his tone angry (like a child, pathetic, you're pathetic, Uchiha), but the Senju was leaving. A few seconds later the only thing left was a glass of water by Madara's bedside, and a faint smell of leaves hanging in the air.

* * *

_"Hashirama!", he snapped, making his tone angry, feeling slightly weak because of it but at the same time full of satisfaction when the young Senju turned around with worry in his eyes. _

_They were sitting by a long, dark table in a conference room. The other lawyers hired for the case at hand had long before left, somewhere around ten or eleven in the evening, but neither Hashirama nor Madara was willing to give up - not even the clock striking twelve two hours ago was enough to stop them. _

_And though Madara denied it with every cell in his body, he wasn't sitting here only because of the case. There was something about Hashirama when he spoke, something in his eyes when he remembered pleasant memories, something with his hands that was just so damn hypnotizing. Of course Madara didn't let any of his inner conflicts show, and to Hashirama, it was the young Uchiha heir himself that he found mysterious and dark. It was a little bit like two enemies that had been circling each other for so long they were starting to become something more. _

_"What? What did I do?", Hashirama asked quickly, stopping in mid-monologue to look at the Uchiha. "I was just talking, Madara, it's not a crime yet, you know that, right? Haha, yeah, wouldn't that be screwed up, Jesus... if talking a lot was a crime..."_

_"You'd be in prison for life. And I'd be the one who put you there."_

_Madara was trembling. He knew he wouldn't be able to take much more of this. _

_"Haha, you're probably right. Good thing talking a lot isn't punishable, the-", Hashirama began with a smile, but his expression turned surprised when Madara pulled him up by the collar and pressed his lips to his. _

_Madara's hand clenched into a fist as he tightened his grip on the Senju, demanding, but at the same time unbearably insecure. How was he going to react? Was he going to push him away? Hashirama was most certainly bi, but then, who knew... On the other hand, Madara wasn't sure he'd stop kissing him even if he objected. Madara knew for a fact this was abuse. He also knew for a fact he didn't give a shit. _

_Thankfully, after a few seconds of sweat and racing hearts, Hashirama joyously gave in, placing his hands on Madara's shoulders. It didn't last that long, however, because they soon pulled away to gasp for air. _

_"At last, I've finally found a way to shut you up", Madara muttered, getting up from his chair. Hashirama did the same almost at once, now locked between him and the long black table. _

_"It's a very good idea. Quite enjoyable", he replied and took a moment to pant. "Could we do that more often?"_

_Madara glanced sideways, thinking. Then he nodded. _

_"Why not"_

* * *

_Not much work was done that night. _

* * *

It wasn't until about three weeks later that Madara and Hashirama openly admitted to being together, and were thankfully easily accepted. Hashirama said it was because their colleagues were good, tolerant people. Madara said it was because his father was _the _Tajima Uchiha.

Madara had always been bitter. It was just that when with his lover, he was _less _bitter, _almost _acceptingly bitter.

And also, sometimes, very rarely, Madara Uchiha allowed himself to smile.

In their younger years it had always been Hashirama that drunk; not to the point of unconsciousness, but it was often accompanied by slurry 'I love you's, 'please be my bride's, and 'wow that was gay's. It had always been Madara carrying him out of bars and putting him to bed. It'd always been Madara smirking secretly as Hashirama fell asleep with a stupid smile on his face.

And now?

As Madara recalled more and more days from his past (and surprisingly, they weren't so very unbearably painful) he saw that he and Hashirama had comedically switched roles. Hashirama the serious one, Hashirama the responsible one. That just wasn't _him. _

The smiling guy that got him home and tucked him in, that was more like it. Madara's thoughts drifted back to when he thought about whether Hashirama truly cared. It was... just maybe... there was a faint chance...

_I'm blind, _Madara thought to himself and closed his eyes. _I am blind_.

* * *

_A/N: Short chapter. Sorry. Next one will be longer, seriously. I just wanted to throw in a few memories as a sparate chapter because they just don't fit in nicely with the next one. Anyway, thank you very much for reading and enjoying. It means very much. _

_Check out _In the Mountains _MadaHashi. Goodbye, and I'm sorry!_


	5. The Li(f)e of Mito Uzumaki

**Chapter Four: The Li(f)e of Mito Uzumaki **

_A/N: I have explaining to do, I know, I know. Look - my computer died. Right now I'm typing from a freshly purchased lenovo G500. I am incredibly sorry for not updating, but there was simply no way. It's a miracle this file survived, honestly, and I am very relieved. The story will be going normally from now on, and again, very sorry about the break. _

* * *

Mito hummed quietly, walking around the warmly lit house. It had been a week since Madara visited, and all seemed fine... But only that.

She had always known three things about Hashirama that were absolutely and completely certain. One - Hashirama was a special person, that kind of person that is born once in a thousand years. Two - Hashirama's hair was beautiful. Three - Hashirama loved somebody in this world, and it wasn't _her_.

Always looking away, and although he smiled, it wasn't... It wasn't a smile meant for _Mito. _

"Hashi! Where were you? I can't find the photos from last year! That business trip to Spain?", she called, the laundry basket tucked under her arm. "Hashi!"

"Right, right. Try the basement, we keep photos on the left side", came the reply, all the way from upstairs.

Mito sighed and walked down the steps, feeling the cold air hit her face. Hashirama was so well-organised, and he never lost his head. She was always the one to forget things, and lose things, and _miss things that were obvious, she knew they were there but she just couldn't quite guess _

"Ah.", she muttered quietly, opening the door and holding it with her hip.

The basement wasn't big, so she had no trouble finding the wardrobe. She glanced at the basket, wondering why she'd taken it with her at all - then, somehow balancing it, the door, and some random lamp, she made her way over to the desired spot.

She placed the items (not the door) on the ground and pulled out the nearest shelf, taking the desired box out and blowing on it to check for dust. Strangely, there was none. With her free hand, she pushed the cover off.

The photo book inside wasn't the one she'd been looking for, but she took it out anyway. It was labeled '2010' and, to her surprise, had a tiny heart drawn next to the date. Hashirama liked... well, doodling on things, she constantly found little trees or smiley faces on notes he left her. Just regular memos, 'see you later, 'have a nice day', or 'buy milk'. Hashirama was an adorable person. Her heart melted a bit more with each drawing.

The amount of dust all around was ridiculous. Mito sneezed.

She opened the new-found album and found that inside, there was a card. It was one of those things one sent from a foreign country; idiotic, really, with a bad photo on one side.

Mito felt like she was doing something very, very wrong. And Hashirama was her husband, too! She bit down on her lip, realising how stupid it sounded. They were _married. _Wasn't marriage about being honest with each other and loving each other unconditionally? That was what she'd been taught. Taking a deeper breath, Mito focused on the card again.

_'Hashirama.'_

The handwriting was sharp, but definitely practical and even beautiful, in a way. Mito didn't recognize it, but she guessed it belonged to a man.

_'I don't know why you insisted I send you this stupid thing. It's a waste of money and time. Anyhow, Verona is a place to be admired.'_

Why was anyone sending Hashirama this...? Mito nervously glanced at the name below, before finishing the letter.

_'Madara'_

Madara?!

Mito looked at the words again. _So_, they went _way_ back.

_'...I would rather have you here with me. Izuna is being a little bitch, but it seems we will be winning over the investors. Maybe, just maybe you could be of use. I'm going to be in London in two days with them. Book us a room, same as last time, and two more for the gentlemen.'_

There was also an address. At a hotel.

Strange, really. There was no mention of an actual business meeting, the letter focused more on the room itself than anything else...

Mito's brow furrowed. _Never mind. I suppose this could pass as normal... but why book two separate rooms for the investors, and one for himself and Hashirama? What were you playing at, Madara? You aren't stingy, so... oh, really, never mind._ She cast the card aside and moved on to the next one.

_'Hey, Mads._

_Cold as ever, haha. Sure, I'll book the rooms. I'm in France at the moment, but..._

_I'll make it somehow, don't worry._

_Nothing more to say, I guess. Remember I-'_

Mito froze. Her hand started shaking.

_'-love you. And I know you love me too. I'll see you soon._

_Yours, Hashirama'_

Three doodles. Three little _hearts. _

What. What. _What?_

Mito didn't move for a few moments, then tried to get over the complete and absolute shock that was overpowering her. Her hands reached out to dig into the box, and she desperately pulled out what was left. Photos. Notes._ Memories._ She saw her husband, Hashirama Senju, holding a rather displeased Madara Uchiha's hand - surrounded by other smiling lawyers in suits. It was labeled "Los Angeles, Anderson Case. Won!"

And a little tree doodle. Hashirama really liked trees.

Next photo. Hashirama attempting to braid Madara's long, messy hair. Whoever took the photo must have been cracking up, because it was slightly shaky.

That... That wasn't friendship. Hashirama and that man, Madara, had been actual lovers.

Mito blinked. She still couldn't believe, after all, Hashirama wasn't-

Suddenly, something else caught her attention. When she went through the photos, she saw her husband _smiling_. Always beaming and happy, not just because he was younger. Because he was with _that man_. Mito left the basket, left the box, just grabbed all the photos and notes she could hold and ran upstairs.

"H-Hashi!"

"Huh?", the man emerged from the kitchen, his mouth full of something green.

Mito dropped the mess on the table.

"Why didn't you tell me?!"

"Oh, what did you find?", he asked with his nicest smile, walking over.

Mito extended her arm, pointing.

Quite strangely, the smile didn't vanish from Hashirama's face. Instead, it turned nervous - he scratched the back of his head, quickly swallowing the remains of his meal.

"Ah... That.", he said and coughed.

"You... And Madara Uchiha...", Mito looked traumatised.

"Yes, Madara and me. Look, Mito, I'm really sorry you had to find out like this... It's just that I didn't know how you would react, and... This marriage was so important, I didn't want to screw it up."

Now Mito was stunned.

"What? Hashi, it's not that I have a problem with- You know I don't!", Mito shook her head. Come to think of it, if she had found photos of Hashirama with some kind of ex girlfriend (or boyfriend), she'd probably just shrug and hide them again. A past relationship was past, but... but, in this case... "I-it's just that... You...", she bit her lip, closing her eyes for a moment. "Look."

She passed him the photos. Hashirama went through them slowly, and his face lit up in a bright smirk.

Mito clenched her fists.

"That. That smile, Hashirama. This is your real smile, but I've never seen it before when you looked at me. You sometimes stared into the distance and smiled like that; now I know what you were thinking about.", her shoulders dropped helplessly.

Hashirama glanced back at her.

"Oh, Mito. You know that Madara is nothing but my colleague now.", he said in a cheerful tone, but it came out fake.

"Understand, Hashi. I know you don't love me, and it's perfectly normal. Our families' joining was the only reason for that wedding. I tried to accept it, I _did_ accept it...", she looked down. Why was this so hard? For some reason, she felt wrong. Like the feeling she'd been pressing down in her stomach had exploded and was filling her entire body. Doubt. Worry. _Is this how my life is going to be? _

"So did I.", Hashirama smiled, putting the photos down and gently taking her hands. "Mito, you are a wonderful woman and I value you greatly."

She smiled a bit too, but it quickly faded.

"Three years ago, I was a different person. I see now that allowing myself to be pulled into a set up marriage was... a great mistake.", the woman looked at him. "I can see how much you..."

Hashirama's smile vanished, he turned his face away.

"Please, let's not-"

"Hashi! Tell me, honestly! If you had a choice, if you could, would you be with Madara Uchiha?"

The man sighed.

"Mito, promise me you will keep this a secret."

"I promise"

"First of all, listen. Madara may seem cold, detached, even cruel. But he's a kind man, and he's so selfless.", he shook his head. "I want you to understand why... why I...", he sighed again, searching for words. Funny, how talking was his _job_, yet this topic made him stutter and bite his tongue. "He's ashamed that all his money isn't being spent to help others. He wanted to give half of it away, and invest the rest... he's just so, so...", _perfect, admit it, Hashirama, _"His father's will forbids him to get into charity work... And you have to understand why I _want _someone like that near me. Because it's true, I want him close to me. But", he stopped, and put his hands on her shoulders comfortingly. "I would never, ever _leave _you, alright? I can't do that to anyone... not... not again"

"But if you didn't have to worry about me...? You love him, yes?"

Hashirama nodded, facing down with his eyes tightly shut.

"Mito..."

"Yes.", she closed her eyes too, and smiled.

He gave her a clueless look.

She, in turn, chuckled.

"Hashi, I'm so glad. I've finally found what makes you happy"

_Huh? What?_

"Mito, what are you talking about? ...What about you? What makes _you_ happy?"

The woman sighed lightly, taking his hands in hers and leading him to the sofa. They sat down.

"I too... really, really like you. But, what I want is to go back home to Europe.", she admitted quietly. "You are a great companion, I can't name one flaw... Maybe just the fact you're too naive, haha...", she put a hand on his chest. "But aside from that, you are the perfect husband. Just not perfect for me"

"Mito, you've never told me this before. If you want to go back home, I will do anything I can to help you.", Hashirama nodded eagerly. "We'll tell our parents we've separated."

Funny, how happy he sounded when saying this. Normally, a break-up would be accompanied by tears and harsh words. Hashirama and Mito were almost laughing with relief.

On the other hand, he hadn't been convinced about his decision. After all, Madara had told him it was all over between them. Come to think of it, Hashirama had agreed. But he hadn't actually considered Mito having second thoughts... she masked herself even better than he did, and now that he knew, he was convinced he had to divorce her. Doubt filled his mind; what if he was just fooling himself, and he was doing it to satisfy his own needs?

No, no. He'd heard Mito. He _liked _Mito.

Spending three years living with a human being created, if not love, a bond of real friendship and trust.

"Hashi...", Mito pursed her lips in worry.

"Mito, we are grown ups. We have the right to choose. It's the law", he joked, squeezing her hands lightly.

"I agree. Of course. Yes", she laughed with relief. "T-thank you!"

"It's alright, Mito.", he smiled again and pulled her into a hug. She was happy. And he should be, too... it was just that, now, he wasn't sure...

_Madara..._

Well, he hoped he could win him back.

* * *

"Wow, argumentative as ever, you two", Sawyer walked up with a wide smile on his face, directed mainly at Madara. Madara pretended he didn't know him. "Just don't get into a fight."

He and Hashirama looked at each other. Hashirama was giving him an uncertain stare (this being for two reasons, both unknown to Madara) while Madara, in return, was trying to figure out if Hashirama had really carried him over his shoulder all the way to his apartment - because someone had, and it probably hadn't been Sawyer. And even if it had been him, Madara wouldn't have wanted to know. He was trying to forget he knew him.

"I can't promise anything", he said out loud, darkly.

Hashirama laughed, slapping himself on the forehead.

"Ah, Sawyer, did you know he punched me in court once? Right here.", he put his finger to his cheekbone, then looked Madara in the eyes.

The Uchiha didn't remember it that way. Sure, some dusty part of his mind knew he'd hit Hashirama, but the rest remembered explicitly all the kisses he planted there as an apology. And why was Hashirama bringing this up, anyway? What was his _point_?

"Wow, I sure hope that doesn't happen again", Sawyer laughed nervously. Madara caught himself mentally screaming 'I do! I really, very much, do!'.

"About that. Madara, let's go out for lunch"

Madara blinked. Sawyer gave Hashirama a blank stare.

"Ah...", the lawyer backed away, looking very awkward. "See you later, anyway. Bye"

Oh, so maybe he _did _remember a certain _confession _he'd heard from Madara.

"What the hell do you mean, go out for lunch?", the Uchiha hissed, stepping forward.

Hashirama opened his mouth to explain. Then, he stopped himself, and decided he'd try something different.

"Yes, lunch. Just you and me", he continued, and started playing with a wisp of his brown hair.

Would Madara... Did he...?

The way Hashirama saw it, if he'd been Madara, he would have said 'no'. Because they had a bad feeling (deliciously bad) about what was going to happen if they got involved. Because Madara wasn't one to break-

"Hashirama. You're married."

Exactly. Hashirama felt like kissing him right there on the spot.

Instead, he gulped.

"Yeah, so?", he pouted, shrugging and putting his hands in his pockets.

Madara, being the unpredictable bastard that he was, grabbed Hashirama's jacket with both hands and pulled him up.

"What do you think you're doing? If we go out, you know how it's going to end.", he growled. "I'm not going to be the one to break up a relationship. I'm not like you, Hashirama! I don't want to hurt people that are happy!"

A certian doubt suddenly filled Madara's mind. Was what he was saying really true? Could it be, that, in time, he would have left, and what if Hashirama only did something that was already unescapable-

No.

With that, he pushed Hashirama back a bit harder than needed and marched off in long steps, leaving the building.

"Hey, are you okay?", asked somebody, holding the Senju up. He glanced at the man.

"Yeah, I'm fine", he couldn't stop himself from beaming, like a complete idiot.

"Are you sure? That guy. Jerk!"

"Are you alright? That man pushed you back pretty hard", another lawyer appeared.

Hashirama waved them off.

"Never mind, never mind.", he said. "I'm perfectly fine."

He felt like he was about to burst out laughing. It was so easy. It was like he'd never left-

His smile vanished. Here he was, hurting Madara _again _and _again. Is that all I'm good for? Can't I make him happy? Why can't I just make him happy again. I haven't... I haven't seen his smile in almost four years. I regret... I regret-_

* * *

"Izuna!"

"What are you going to bitch about now?", came his brother's tired reply from the other end of the line. "I'm at work, you asshole. I have a case. It's Tobir-"

"Izuna, I just pushed Hashirama."

"Oh dear, did he cry?"

"Idiot!"

Silence.

"Okay, why did you push him?"

Madara cleared his throat.

"He asked me out to lunch."

"Isn't he married?", a pause."Whoa, I never knew that 'perfect' Hashirama Senju could be naughty."

"Oh, you have no id- err. Izuna, I am completely lost. Probably for the first time in my life"

"No, you were like that before. When you started going out with that Senju"

"...hn. Either way...?"

"Look, I don't know. You're the big brother, figure something out."

"IZUNA!"

A few passers-by glanced at him.

"...Stop yelling, Madara. Go back, apologize like a grown up, and tell him you don't think it's adequate for two people who used to be close to go out for lunch when one of them is married."

"Did you say 'apologize'?"

"Yes."

Silence. Madara had hung up.

Izuna looked at the secretary standing in his office.

She seemed slightly traumatised.

Izuna wrinkled his nose.

"Oh, don't make a big deal out of it, I'm just giving my _older _brother _love _advice regarding a _man_."

"But you're not gay, are you, Mr. Uchiha?"

Izuna smiled.

"Five p.m. good for you? Coffeehouse on the corner?"

The secretary beamed and nodded, putting the papers on his desk.

* * *

Meanwhile, Madara was battling with his pride.

He'd just have to walk back and-

_No way._

_No._

He could always just talk to him the next day, in court. Yeah, sure. That sounded good. Madara felt so pathetic it was almost funny.

With a sigh, he put one hand in his pocket and walked down the street, headed for his apartment. He unlocked the door, did all the routine things. Papers untouched on his desk, he sat down in his leather chair and fell deep into his own thoughts.

* * *

_A/N: The usual. Review, PM me, anything, and I'll see you guys in a week - this time on schedule, Tuesday. _


	6. Foreshadowing

**Chapter Five: Foreshadowing**

_The title says it all. Pay close attention, kiddies, there'll be a quiz. _

* * *

_"__Mads. Look at this"_

_Madara rolled his eyes, wondering why he'd ever invited Hashirama over._

_Oh right, he hadn't._

_He wanted to be stern, and he wanted to throw him out. Yeah. Wanting was about as far as he got._

_"No seriously, take a look at these footprints. There is no way my client left them, they're too small. He's a guy seven feet, you've seen him yourself."_

_"Are you suggesting a child left those prints? And murdered my dead client?"_

_"No, but it certainly wasn't my client."_

_"Hashirama!"_

_The Senju looked up._

_"What?"_

_Madara harshly grabbed his chin and yanked him up, crashing his lips onto his._

_"I'm not really interested in that stupid case.", he muttered quietly, still holding him in a steely grip. "Do you understand?"_

_Hashirama laughed. It came out a bit muffled._

_"Quit it, Mads. We're working."_

_"That's not something you'd say"_

_"..."_

_"..."_

_"Look, how about we finish this stuff and go out? I know a fancy restaurant..."_

_"I don't wanna go out."_

_"Madara.", Hashirama laughed again. "You have sofas on your private jet, right? Because that restaurant is in Los Angeles. It's a long flight, you know..."_

_Madara put on a predatory grin, understanding._

* * *

He buried his face in his hands.

_Shit._

_Simply... Shit._

He pulled his suit, shirt and underwear off, and went to bed. He couldn't, in all honesty, think of anything else to do.

* * *

"Pick up. Pick up. Madara..."

It was seven am. Was it too early? Well, Madara never got up before eleven, but then just maybe-

Hashirama bit his nail, an old and almost forgotten habit.

"...Madara Uchiha, prosecutor... ngn..."

"Oh, thank God. Hi! Hi"

"H-Hashi...rama...?"

"Madara. Yesterday..."

Madara sat up in his bed rapidly, alert.

"I'm sorry", he blurted out before he even thought about it, which was the only reason it came to pass.

Hashirama opened his mouth.

"D-did you...?"

"No!"

"Madara, look. You shouldn't be the one apologizing. The truth is...", he breathed out. "Mito and me, we've separated. I wanted to know... If you still... You know. If you still cared."

Hashirama bit his lip uncertainly, walking back and forth through the kitchen.

Silence.

"Madara."

"Huh?"

"Madara!"

"You know how much I hate to be tricked.", silence. "And you know how much I hate _you.", _dramatic pause. _"So come with me to Paris."_

Hashirama blinked.

"Wh...what?"

"I'm going to Paris. It's some kind of important event. Come with me."

"When? Madara, we have a case-"

"This weekend."

Madara tumbled out of bed, not sure what he was doing or why he was doing it. He just knew he wanted to. His heart and mind were one, joined by the absolute chaos and bliss. Mito'd gone spinning out of the picture, she didn't matter, she was _nothing, _because Hashirama and her had separated, out of their own free will-

And there was no need for a chaperone.

And if Madara Uchiha wanted something, he took it.

"...Are you sure?"

"Hashirama. Don't think I'm forgiving you just like that. I just need someone to take with me."

_Bluff, bluff, pathetic bluff... who are you to call yourself the head of the Uchiha family?!_

Hashirama ran his fingers through his hair.

"Yeah, right.", he allowed himself a little teasing. "I know you."

"You think you do."

"Don't try to sound menacing. Anyway, I'm sorry for playing that trick on you earlier."

Silence.

"Hashirama..."

The Senju blinked.

"Yeah?"

A brief pause.

"Is she alright? Is... Is Mito alright?"

Hashirama stopped walking, absolutely stunned. It took him a second to get his voice back. Madara, caring about Mito...? Was that even possible?

"Yes. Yes, she wants to go home. To Europe, I mean.", he replied. "This marriage was a mistake. We both admitted it."

Was that saying too much to Madara? Was it making him sound desperate? Oh, poor little Hashi, _my Mads my lovely little Mads please take me back I'm sorry I love you I'll never ever leave you pinkie promise, totally_

"Well, good for you."

"Madara..."

The Uchiha cursed himself. When talking to Hashirama, he didn't _think_. He just acted. It was unbearably annoying, because it often led to him agreeing to everything and even asking Hashirama out without even acknowledging it.

Ah, damn him for calling so early!

"You really can't keep blaming me, for that...", Hashirama's voice spoke again. He was trying to save his dignity.

"It was your fault. Bear it. I'm not saying you don't have a chance to make things right. I'm giving you that chance, damn it. Hashirama... Don't fuck up."

"Hey. It's not like you're- hey! Madara! Great", the Senju laughed lightly and put the phone in his pocket. Just like Madara, that was - hanging up when he wanted to. But then... His smile vanished. The Uchiha was right.

Against everything, he wanted to take that offer Madara made him. Well. It wasn't actually an offer, more like an order. Hashirama didn't really care. He was just glad Madara hadn't been more upset about the stupid trick. Maybe... Just maybe he'd been wanting to take Hashirama to the Parisian event anyhow.

In a way it was pathetic. And in another way, it was so innocent and unlinke Madara Uchiha.

But then, he'd always been incredibly unpredictable.

"Who was that...", Mito walked out of their...tch, _her _bedroom and rubbed her eyes. "Hashirama?"

No more 'Hashi'.

"I called Madara. Don't worry about it, Mito."

"Oh, that's nice. How are things between you?

"We're going to Paris."

Mito's eyes widened slightly.

"Paris?"

Hashirama giggled like a happy little boy, then nodded as if he was having a seizure.

"Right, he's rich.", Mito put a hand to her forehead. "It must feel nice."

"I told you, he doesn't actually like it. Madara's not that kind of guy."

Mito smirked lightly.

"You would know"

"Right."

"Hashirama, do you think I could talk to him again? Sometime?"

Hashirama paused.

"I suppose so, but he's not really, you know..."

"I understand. Just... Ask sometime."

"Alright. So, what do you want for breakfast?"

* * *

The remaining days passed incredibly fast. Normally, having so little details would have the ever-so composed and organised Senju worried, but this was Madara. And he trusted Madara. Kind of.

"Oh, there you are!", he waved furiously, walking towards him across the huge, grey airport. The ground was covered by odd yellow lines that Hashirama couldn't make a thing out of, but they didn't seem to matter that much anyway - he just made his way as he wished, the small suitcase rattling behind him. The Uchiha was dressed in a black suit and a red tie, his favourite combination. Rather than smart, glossy shoes, he had black Converse plimsoles – heh, even Madara liked being comfy on a plane. Hahaha.

Hashirama had known that.

He himself was wearing jeans and a green T-shirt with a styled leaf on it. Hashirama liked trees.

Madara nodded a greeting, his two bodyguards standing on both his sides.

"Stylish.", Hashirama smirked, positioning the suitcase by his leg a bit better.

Madara rolled his eyes.

"It's just a jet."

Hashirama burst out laughing. Just a jet, no bid deal.

"You really are screwed up", he sighed, walking up to his side to board. "I like it"

The doors closed, and Hashirama opened his mouth.

He remembered the jet, but not like this. It'd gone through an extreme makeover.

Last time he'd seen it, they were both young and Madara had only inherited the fortune. Back then the jet had been caramel brown, with blue elements here and there. Now it was fitted with black, shiny leather, that was probably an absolute nightmare on hot days, but gosh did it look stunning.

"Wow.", Hashirama laughed. "I'm impressed."

Madara allowed himself a small smile. Seeing Hashirama impressed was really the only reason he'd went through the trouble in the first place, but Hashirama didn't have to know that. Suddenly, he noticed Hashirama rapidly bend down to inspect something on the floor. He cocked an eyebrow, intrigued - what was he doing _now?_

"Oh! You have a bonsai, it's so cute!", Hashirama clasped his hands together, staring at a little tree in the corner.

Madara sighed, and rolled his eyes. _He ignores the expensive vase, the mahogany table, but a freakish little tree? Yes, indeed, amazing_.

"That thing?"

"It's adorable! I have like, five in my bedroom. Erm, Mito's bedroom."

"Right, you have a tree fetish.", Madara sighed, sitting down on his throne. Cough, black leather chair.

Hashirama put the suitcase under the table and sat down in front of him, right there on the floor. It was a very clean floor, but a floor nonetheless - Hashirama didn't seem bothered. He had a habit of ignoring all smart-looking furniture.

Madara put one leg over the other. He didn't mind looking down at the man that broke his heart, ha.

"Something interesting down there?", he asked in a falsely bored tone.

Hashirama snorted with laughter.

"Do you really want me to answer that?... Anyway, thanks for the invitation. Lunch is still on the table, so we can do that tomorrow. Deal?"

"Deal."

"..."

"..."

"Hashirama, tell me why you and Mito broke up. Clearly. She wants to go home, I understand, but you...?"

He was serious now, and so was Hashirama. His carefree smile slowly vanished from his face, making Madara a little bit less happy than a moment ago, but if that was the price he had to pay for a final answer then so be it.

"I wanted to apologize for what I did, Madara. Because I think we used to be great."

Madara desperately wanted to get up, forget all his pain and kiss him. But Madara Uchiha was a proud man, and his pride was stronger than him. It made him feel unbearably weak sometimes... and somewhat feminine. Weren't there ever so many jokes about women 'changing their mind all the time', 'saying one thing, thinking the other', 'wanting someone, but ignoring them'... some of them were oddly familiar and Madara hated it.

"Actions, not words, Hashirama.", he said finally, realising the silence had gotten heavy between them.

The Senju sighed.

"You haven't changed."

"_You_ have."

"..."

"That woman did it. You're different. You're not as blind and stupid anymore"

"Are you... Complimenting Mito?"

"Now that she's not with you, I can tolerate her"

Hashirama laughed.

"I really don't understand you sometimes."

Madara blinked. Hashirama, startling him again. _Love me, but not understand me. How is that possible? Isn't love supposed to be understanding? I admit, I too... I am on the verge of losing my own grasp of Hashirama as a person... Am I? What happens if he changes even more, and I never recognize him again? The boy he once was will die eventually, for sure. What am I...?_

He quickly stopped, biting his lip. What Madara never realised was, he'd been a boy too. He'd been a twenty-year-old kid, desperate for life and love and ecstasy, desperate for everything- just as dumb as Hashirama, but in a different way. He never actually understood he was young. With younger brothers to take care of, he'd always thought he was mature and basically, a shorter version of a grown up. Wrong, of course.

Funny, how Madara was _smart_, but it'd always been Hashirama who was _wise. _

"Let me put it this way.", the Uchiha said. "I haven't forgiven you, but that doesn't change... It doesn't change...", he was visibly avoiding the word 'feelings'. Hashirama waited. "...what I want to do."

The Senju smirked. That Madara... Sometimes what he said to avoid being romantic was even better.

Their conversation soon drifted away from that topic, as guided by the younger man. He'd finished talking about the way he felt. It was enough for one day. They talked about family and political matters so ordinary it was almost funny, but Madara had needed that. He'd missed simple conversation, with the man who had a simple smile. Hashirama smiled easily and sometimes at random moments. The Uchiha recalled one time when Hashirama had started cracking up at an autopsy. That had been a new level of awkward, but Madara smiled at the memory. And that's basically the point of good memories, right?

They talked about their siblings, and Hashirama finally asked about Izuna.

"He's been made chief of police. A lot of our relatives work with him", Madara replied. "What about _your_ younger brother?"

"Tobirama's... Well..."

"Still...?"

"Yup."

* * *

"Nara."

"Yessir?"

The brown chair turned slowly with a quiet squeak, revealing a young man. He was holding a small glass of water in his hand, which he raised to his lips every once in a while.

"I heard _the _Uchiha was invited to a party in Paris."

"...yessir."

"You are to be his shadow. I want to know if my brother is with him... and I want to know if Izuna Uchiha has been left alone in our city."

"Sir, apologies, but why do you wanna track your brother's ex-lover?"

"Nara... The Uchiha family is one of the most important in the States. Madara's father was the real thing, but we must keep tabs on his son nonetheless.", he put the glass down and joined his fingertips. "And it's not like I only asked about _Madara, _remember? I mentioned Izuna too, you jackass."

"Right, the new chief of police", Nara made a face like he was going to spit, but didn't, in fear of his superior's wrath. "We oughta be watching our backs, Tobirama, sir."

The crime lord sat back.

"I'm going to clean this city of Uchiha scum, Nara. It's going to be a safe and wealthy place, clean of evil and fear."

"Yessir. The Uchiha are totally evil, sir."

Tobirama didn't seem notice Nara's tired tone. He dipped a finger in the glass of water he held in his hand.

"The only one in the way is my brother. I'm worried about him, you understand."

"I do, sir."

"That idiot. Why'd he have to pick Madara Uchiha, of all people... I was so glad when he broke up with that bastard. That's why I need to know if it remained that way, Nara. It's not personal, no. I just want to avoid casualties in the form of innocents. It's all for the people"

"Of course.", Nara bowed deeply, a smirk spread across his face.

"And don't grin like that."

"Oh, sir, I just can't help it."

Tobirama rolled his eyes, and gestured his right-hand man out of the office.

_Hashirama, you idiot,_ he thought with a sigh. _You have no idea what you're doing, as always._

* * *

_A/N: This document didn't save itself and I am _angry_. Either way, sorry for the late update, but... heh, I'm betting it's still Tuesday SOMEWHERE. Right? _

_Free cookies for the reviewers!_


	7. Rushed Words

**Chapter Six: Rushed Words **

_My idea of fan service. _

* * *

"...You really have changed.", Madara put his hand forward and took a loose strand of hair out of Hashirama's face.

"I'm happy you noticed, because you're just the same old Madara. Trying to act mature and superior to everyone", he giggled in reply, sitting a bit closer to the Uchiha.

"Hashirama.", Madara's voice was a bit hoarse. He put his arm on the rest behind their backs, and slowly leaned forward. He had a determined look on his face.

"Um, Mads...", Hashirama laughed nervously, joining his hands and beginning to squeeze his own fingers in an attempt to calm himself down.

Madara yanked back.

"Izuna's chief of police. Did I tell you that?"

"Yes"

"He's doing a shitty job"

"Oh dear"

"Still better than Tobirama, though."

"Hey!"

Madara smirked, looking away. At first, it'd been very strange, talking to another_ lawyer_ about his little criminal brother, but they quickly got used to that. Both men had secrets they didn't want revealed; blood on their hands, slipping money under the table, and, in this case, the dark character of Tobirama.

This was, by the way, another reason why Madara felt so guilty about not being there for Izuna. He couldn't, obviously, let the chief of police know about Hashirama's relationship with the city's most feared criminal. That would mean getting Hashirama in jail. And Madara, despite everything that had happened between them, couldn't betray him. It was a weakness. So Madara tried not to think about it.

It had been three years since Madara and Hashirama parted ways, and all this time, though bitter, Madara kept his word and never let a thing about Tobirama slip.

"Have you talked to him lately?", he asked finally, his eyes averted.

"Yes, actually. He's after the Uchiha, as always", Hashirama said matter-of-factly, "but I don't think it's going to get serious."

"Me neither."

"I do have a bad feeling, though..."

"Maybe it's just your depression problem coming back", Madara tilted his head to the side, openly mocking him.

They looked at each other for a few moments, just studying each other's eyes.

Hashirama thought Madara's eyes were dark, mysterious, and deep. Like two wells. He could stare at them for hours and hours, and never get bored.

"I...", the Senju was three inches away from saying 'I love you'. He didn't. "I, uh, hope you're not going to murder me when we land."

"No promises"

Hashirama laughed.

"We should rest, then. I want to look my best tomorrow. After all, it's a big night. I think"

Madara nodded.

"Dinner will be around six pm.", he said. "You know your way around, yes?"

Hashirama did, but even if he hadn't, he knew Madara would probably just ignore his pleas for explanations and watch him scurry around. Madara found it amusing.

* * *

_"Seriously, where's the toilet?", Hashirama walked into the bedroom, hair tied on the top of his head and his shirt hanging from one arm._

_Madara looked up from his laptop._

_"Figure it out."_

_"Mads!", Hashirama pouted, sitting down on the bed near his legs. "Come on, you know this place better than me"_

_"I have no idea what you're talking about", said the Uchiha sarcastically, eyes glued to the screen._

_"Madara. Come on."_

_Hashirama dropped the shirt and moved forward, running his fingers through Madara's hair._

_"Put the laptop away", he said quietly, smiling._

_"I'm working, Hashirama..."_

_Even so, the Uchiha pushed the machine off his knees. As soon as he did that, Hashirama took its place._

_"I love you", he beamed, joining their foreheads. "I love you.", he wasn't laughing now._

_"I don't have to say it to, do I?"_

_"Please"_

_"But why do to want to hear something you already know?", Madara grumbled, glaring at the wall on his side. Hashirama cocked an eyebrow._

_Madara glanced left. Glanced right. Then he leaned in and whispered in the other man's ear._

* * *

The flight passed quickly. Meanwhile Mito was at home, calming her parents, Tobirama was in the bath and Izuna was desperately trying to call his brother. Unfortunately, the older Uchiha didn't pick up.

They landed the next day, and had a few more hours until the party. They spent those in the hotel, talking some more business regarding Renner. Hashirama bought Madara lunch.

All was normal.

At around six p.m. they got into a dark car that took them to the centre. Lights flashed by, and Hashirama found himself glued to the window. Madara was just as interested in what was outside, but he was much better at hiding it and in the end he appeared as mildly curious and slightly bored.

"Madara, you're a celebrity here", said the Senju, glancing briefly at the prosecutor.

He was frowning.

"Hn, it's tedious. Thankfully, only the higher classes actually care about what's going on with Father's money. Tajima Uchiha's boy, that's what I am to them", he frowned even more, crossing his arms on his chest. "And to the masses..."

"Just a pretty face.", Hashirama smirked.

Madara clicked his tongue.

"You idiot."

The door opened. Hashirama was blinded by the flashing lights. He raised his arm to block it, and Madara grabbed hold of his other wrist in an old habit. He was about to throw a tantrum, yell at the papparazzi, anything, but Hashirama suddenly smiled at the cameras. And all things stopped.

Madara stared; in a way completely obvious and understandable. Hashirama's smile could brighten up the night.

Madara realised his own lips were being tugged. He was smiling, too - and, to his horror, people were photographing him.

"Madara! Madara Uchiha-"

"-and Hashirama Senju-"

"Let's run."

Madara pulled him into the hall, his hand still around Hashirama's.

The Senju couldn't stop laughing.

"Wow, you really are terrible at these things", he giggled.

"Shut up."

Madara straightened up, swallowed. He then put his arm under Hashirama's, proudly leading him over the carpet like a conqueror with his treasure.

"It's seems someone's fashionably late", a middle-aged woman walked up to them, holding a wine glass in her hand. Her eyes were green, her hair blonde, and he had the general appearance of a businesswoman. Madara recognized her, and inwardly groaned. "Hello, Uchiha."

"Yamanaka."

"And could it be...?", her slightly cold face lit up with a smile, "It's been years since I last saw you with Uchiha, Hashirama. But you don't have a face I'd easily forget"

Hashirama laughed, shaking his head. Madara was very close to baring his fangs and starting to growl.

"Yes, I came along this time", the Senju said. Somehow, despite being actually a lot taller than Madara, having his arm _held _by him wasn't odd. It wasn't awkward. It just seemed like the right thing to do.

"So, are you two back together?", Yamanaka chirped.

Hashirama straightened up, then glanced at Madara.

"Uh... Are we?"

Madara's face turned to stone as he pulled him away.

"Nice talking to you!", Hashirama called before melting into the other guests. "Hey, Mads, do you want to dance?"

"..."

"Come on"

"..."

Hashirama took it as an agreement and walked onto the slippery black floor. A few heads turned.

"Wait. Wait", Madara hissed. "Hashira-"

"I want to dance with you."

"..."

"Madara."

"Hn, fine, but you're the girl"

"Okay, okay.", Hashirama put his hand on his shoulder, feeling the soft fabric of Madara's suit. He'd gotten used to that, even though they only danced a few times before. The Uchiha, in turn, placed his hand on his ribs and held his fingers a lot gentler than it would be expected of him. Their hands were the same size. At least that was good, because damn, did he feel stupid with Hashirama taller than him.

They started spinning.

"Why... Why the hell are you doing all this?", Madara whispered.

Hashirama looked away.

"I told you, I am sorry that I hurt you. Don't pretend that there were other things that tore you apart, Madara. I know it's my fault, and I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me."

Madara cursed the man's silver tongue. He could get him to play along to anything... That bastard.

"No. I can't forgive you.", he replied grimly, though not entirely truthfully.

Hashirama tightened his grip on his hand.

"...and you're wrong. It wasn't just you", the Uchiha continued. "My brother was killed. The one in prison"

Hashirama opened his mouth in shock.

"Madara, I'm sorry, I didn't know-"

"You couldn't have. The media only focus on the successful Uchiha children."

"I feel completely terrible"

"So nothing's new."

Hashirama sighed, and pulled him a big closer. Madara was always surprised at how easily Hashirama handled him.

"I'm really sorry."

"Oh, damn it, stop apologizing!"

Hashirama's shoulders slumped down, he sighed sadly. Madara knew that look all too well, and he knew what he had to do now. He absolutely hated it.

"Sorry", he muttered under his breath, glancing sideways.

Yes, he knew what was coming _now_. A tiny smirk that grew wider and wider appeared on the Senju's face.

"Look who's apologizing now"

He switched moods faster than a girl on her period. Madara only sighed and lead him more sternly, slowly moving to the other side of the polished floor.

"...Madara."

"Yeah?"

He turned to look up at the Senju again - Hashirama was staring at him with lowered eyelashes.

"About the case. I just realised something.", he said.

"Hn?"

"That Renner couldn't have killed her husband. She told me earlier that she was pregnant. A pregnant woman would never risk the baby's health. She wouldn't endanger it. Imagine the victim fought back and kicked her, it could mean-"

"Why?", Madara cut him off. "Why wouldn't she endanger the baby? If she was going to kill her husband, she was probably planning on getting an abortion afterwards.", she said coldly.

Hashirama shook his head.

"But she didn't. She's with child, and she's going to give birth to it"

Madara blinked.

"Didn't it strike you that she could have changed her mind? People are stupid creatures. There's no such thing as will."

"Will? Oh, of course there is.", Hashirama's brow furrowed, he'd already forgotten the topic of Renner - this only proved how focused he was on Madara right now. "It's the guiding power in our lives. It's incredibly important"

"Will isn't power. Power is the ability to make things happen, will is nothing"

"Okay, if you're so smart, then how do you explain power of will?", Hashirama smirked lightly, quite used to the other's negative approach.

Madara frowned.

"It's what people call true power, although it has nothing to do with belief."

"I think that one day, we'll all he united by the same will.", Hashirama looked sideways, with a dreamy expression on his face.

Madara blinked. He didn't agree with the Senju, but deep down, in the pit he thought he'd forgotten, he wanted him to succeed. Just to keep that look on his face. Like a hopeful kid before opening a present.

He was going to reply, but the music changed.

"My turn.", Hashirama smiled and put his hand on Madara's middle, at the same time changing the position of their hands.

"Hey!", Madara frowned. "That's not adequate"

The Senju made a serious face, mocking him, and grunted a 'hn'.

"Funny", Madara looked away.

Hashirama turned to smile at someone beside them, and Madara took that chance to watch him.

"What do I have to do?", Hashirama suddenly turned. "What can make you forgive me?"

"I don't know", Madara grumbled.

"Then let me just try one thing.", the other man bent down and quickly pecked his lips.

He wasn't just checking Madara's reaction. He was checking his own.

Madara froze, then pulled away slowly.

Hashirama smiled.

"I won't give up on this."

"You're stupid."

"Maybe."

* * *

_A/N: What the hell am I doing. Late update, yeah, but when I came home last night I studied and then just fell asleep on the floor. Sorry. See you next chapter! _


	8. Shit Hits the Fan

**Chapter Seven: Shit Hits the Fan **

_Yes, the title of this chapter is a reference to Man of Dreams, which is the best Madara/Hashirama fanfiction ever and I love it. _

_Also, don't be weirded out by Tobirama. It's not my fault he's like that, it's because of Butsuma. _

* * *

Madara felt like there was a weight on his chest that was pushing him down. It didn't hurt, but was making breathing increasingly hard. His eyes fluttered open, he found himself staring at a gold hotel wall. It was the royal kind, with all possible flowers and fruit carved into it. The room was also almost completely dark.

The weight on his chest was Hashirama's arm around him, and part of his head.

Madara's eyes narrowed.

"Hashirama...", he said in a menacing tone.

"Yah?", the Senju yawned, slowly rising up.

Madara took a very deep breath.

"What are you doing in my bed."

"I'm in your bed?", Hashirama blinked, looking around. "Oh. I thought it was my bed."

"Well, it's not."

"Do you think we did it?"

"I'm not... Entirely certain."

Hashirama ran his hand through his hair, and then glanced down.

"I don't think so.", he said. "No, I don't think so."

"Good."

Madara pushed him off the bed, rather brutally. Hashirama was actually used to this, and landed on his hands and knees like many times before. Back in the day, he could even do such acrobatics in his sleep.

"Hey, Mads."

"Huh?"

"I love you."

Madara rolled over on his side and pulled his knees to his chest. He wasn't going to- he couldn't say-

He wasn't going to investigate how they found themselves together in a Paris hotel room. He just wanted to stay that way, with Hashirama on the floor beside him.

If Madara Uchiha, in his whole life, was ever happy - it was at times like this.

Hashirama knew this perfectly well.

NEWS

- MADARA UCHIHA SMILES -

At the opening gala last night, we saw many celebrities and important people. Among them, there was Keiko Yamanaka, Teilawe Hoshigaki, and... Madara Uchiha.

Madara Uchiha.

Just... _Madara Uchiha._

Yes, the young and handsome billionaire appeared in public for the first time in many years - and with the infamous Hashirama Senju by his side. Grand return of the old couple?

Wonderfully oblivious of the accusations thrown at them, the two lawyers had a great evening.

So great the stone-faced Madara Uchiha wore a smile.

If this isn't love, then I don't know what is.

Read more on my website,

Demi Kiske

* * *

"This newspaper is... Scandalous.", Madara spat out, as the two men walked in the direction of Izuna's apartment.

They were back home, and damn it, the _first _thing they saw was that stupid stupid stupid shitass written article-

It had been Hashirama's idea. Not the newspaper, just that he said he wanted to talk to Izuna, see what was new. He didn't listen to Madara's objections.

"Oh, but you came out wonderful.", Hashirama took the papers out of his hands. "Look, you're smiling..."

The flight home had been long, and, I'm sad to say, uneventful. It had taken most of the day, and Hashirama slept through it with his head lodged comfortably on Madara's shoulder. Madara stroked his hair a lot more than he would admit. In fact, he wouldn't admit it at all.

He wouldn't _ever _admit he'd loved Hashirama even when his heart was broken. He couldn't say he cared if he was married or not. Because Madara didn't _care_. Of course not.

_Smiling at me,_ Hashirama thought. _I only wish I could have seen it. I so want to see him smile. _

"Bullshit. It was just a light on my face."

"But see here, it's totally-"

Madara froze, seizing hold of his hand instinctively. Hashirama would have been happy. He really would have, had it not been for the absolute terror in Madara's eyes.

During the year they spent together, Hashirama had only seen him scared twice. Once, when Hashirama got lost in a dangerous part of Baltimore and Madara sent what seemed like a small army after him, leading it himself.

Hashirama had been very close to death back then. He literally stared right into a gun, while a man with a blue scarf around his neck went through his wallet.

* * *

_"Don't move, jackass, don't you dare"_

_"Hey, calm down. Calm down.", Hashirama raised both hands taking a step back. "It's fine, just take it."_

_"Don't move! Don't fu-"_

_The man froze, staring at his ID wide-eyed. It fell out of his stiff fingers. _

_"Ha...Hashirama Senju...!"_

_"That's me.", Hashirama shrugged, smiling, quite stupidly in these circumstances. _

_"You're... you're the boss' bro..."_

_"GET AWAY FROM HIM!"_

_Hashirama jumped, hearing the sharp, bark-like voice. Madara was holding up a gun, supporting it with his hand, and Hashirama noted the Uchiha had probably taken some kind of course. Or he was just a natural talent. _

_There were two bodyguards behind him, waving their guns around too, the funny part being Madara looked a lot more dangerous than them. It had something to do with the fear-crazed glare in his dark eyes. _

_"Drop the gun. NOW!", he yelled, and the thief started running. _

_Madara moved like he was going to follow him, but Hashirama put a hand on his. _

_"It's fine, I'm okay.", he smiled, and bent to pick up his wallet and ID. "He was just a poor guy, trying to make a living..."_

_As soon as he straightened up, there were arms around him, pressing him to Madara's firm chest. Hashirama blinked, surprised – it wasn't like him to show affection, and definitely not in a public place..._

_"He was going to kill you.", Madara muttered into his neck. _

_"Actually, he figured I was Tobirama's brother...", Hashirama whispered back, "but, thanks."_

_Madara pulled back. And that was it for affection, because next thing Hashirama knew, there was a fist meeting with his jaw. _

_"And _don't _EVER go off alone, not in a city as dangerous as Baltimore, you moron!", he yelled, as Hashirama held his face in shock. The bodyguards seemed equally stunned. _

_Hashirama slumped down. _

_"Sorry..."_

_"And _do _something about that stupid depression issue! Now let's get out of here!"_

* * *

The second time Madara openly showed fear was when Izuna fell sick. And it was a different kind of fear, too. With Hashirama, he felt a largedose anger and worry. Mostly anger, though. And he wasn't afraid to show it, punching Hashirama in the face right after rescuing him/comforting him/helping him out.

With Izuna... it was panic. Pure fear, enough to drive him insane, something that lay hidden deep inside him since the day he lost his third brother.

And that fear was what Hashirama saw in his eyes right now.

Outside the house, there were police cars and an ambulance. Blue and red lights flashed; people were screaming. Hashirama caught sight of a paparazzi.

He opened his mouth and clutched the other man's hand tighter.

"Mads-"

The Uchiha ripped forward, running between the people. Hashirama stormed after him, apologizing and gesturing frantically as he did so.

Madara was already through the door, running up the stairs. He almost knocked over a policeman, but he didn't even spare him a glance.

His hand closed on a detective's collar, teeth clenched.

"What happened here?!"

"Sir, you're not supposed to be here.", the detective pushed him back, evidently keeping him out of the bedroom.

"This is my little brother's house, damn it!"

"The chief was your brother?"

Madara's eyes widened. From that sentence, he caught only one word.

_Was._

He pushed the officer back and sprinted through the door, barely hearing the loud slam when it hit the wall. He ran through the bedroom, and reached the study –

He froze.

Detectives were crouching over something on the floor. That something was Izuna; throat slit and eyes wide open, staring into the ceiling emptily. His clothes and hair were soaked wet.

"You're not supposed to-"

"You can't-"

"Sir, stay back-"

_Izuna._

Madara dropped to his knees and covered his mouth with his hand.

"Izuna..."

Hashirama ran in a moment later, stopping in the doorway. His eyes widened.

Madara, still on the floor, pushed a detective back and lifted his brother's head onto his legs. The man was like a puppet, and only then did Madara realise he was still a lot smaller than him. He was only twenty-three. His shoulders weren't broad like his, his frame wasn't that of a _man, _just a _boy a little boy _

_"IZUNA!"_

Hashirama waited. Even other people in the room knew better than to talk. He wanted to walk up, to see Madara's face, but it was hidden behind his raven black hair. His shoulders were slumped, and though Hashirama couldn't see his tears, he could hear quiet sobbing.

Clenched teeth. Shaking hands.

"Y-your brother did this.", Madara spoke, his teeth clenched, turning to look at Hashirama. His eyes were red. "Tobirama Senju. This is his mark", he touched his little brother's wet hair. "He _killed_ Izuna"

Hashirama stood speechless, then all the words went out at once.

"Madara, wait, I'm so sorry-", he touched his shoulder, but Madara pushed him away.

"Don't touch me!", he snapped, "Leave"

Hashirama flinched.

"Don't talk like that."

Madara turned away, and closed Izuna's eyes with his fingers. Gently, he lifted him off his knees, and stood up swaying. Hashirama put out a hand to hold him, but retraced it, pursing his lips.

"Sir, look, we're sorry for your loss...", one of the detectives began, clearing his throat. Then, he remembered to take off his hat.

Madara took a deep, shaky breath.

"I've heard that too many times", he said slowly, glaring from underneath his black mane. At this moment, he looked like an animal. "My mother. My father. My four brothers... fate's a cruel son of a bitch, isn't he"

The last few words were filled with so much bitterness and pain it made all the men in the room flinch.

"Madara!", Hashirama tried once more, walking after him. He wanted to hold him and comfort him, try to make him feel better, somehow, there was surely a way...

But then.

"...I'm going to kill Tobirama"

Madara was looking at him darkly.

Hashirama's features turned to stone.

"...I won't let you do that."

Madara... smiled.

"Try to stop me.", he said, tilting his head to the side, then left – the stunned detectives staring at the door.

Hashirama hated lying, but he needed to do it this time. Just this once.

"He won't do it", he assured them quickly, "Madara's all talk, he's just broken right now, he'll be fine."

Then he was gone too.

He needed to go after Madara, right now. He ran out, and realised it was actually quite cold. He'd never noticed, because when they'd been walking, he'd been walking to Madara and watching him smile and watching him be _happy_

Just minutes ago, he'd been _happy _

He had to stop, his fingers dug into his chest to try and somehow stop the pain. He was panting, his head was spinning and he couldn't breathe...

What was worse, now, he needed to go after Madara and stop him.

He needed to run.

* * *

"What?"

Hashirama's eyes were, for the first time in many days, stern.

"Tobirama is my kid brother. I am terribly... Terribly sorry about what happened to Izuna. But I can't let you hurt my little brother, Mads."

He walked up and put his hands out to reach around his middle, but Madara grabbed the gun he had in the back of his trousers and put it up to Hashirama's forehead.

He wasn't thinking, it was obvious. There were tears sparkling in his eyes.

"I told you not to touch me", he growled, chocking down a sob.

"Madara! Where did you get that from?!", he cried, rapidly taking a step back. The Uchiha curled his lip.

"No matter. Just let me go, Hashirama"

"...No."

"Hashirama!"

Madara's hand was shaking. The Senju closed his eyes, and took the first step back towards him.

"It's not certain that it was Tobirama anyway. Please, let's look into this together"

"No. Hashirama. I know it was him; his sign was clear. Tobirama's mafia is behind this, he killed Izuna. And I will have his head."

Hashirama took another step, his eyes still tightly closed.

"You always assume I know. You never actually _tell_ me things, you never _say_ them, but you don't have to, because... Because I... I really _do _know. Just like I'm certain you won't shoot me now... because you can't. So don't bluff."

Madara saw his hand shaking, and finally, falling to his side helplessly. His head drooped.

Hashirama reached out, and gently took the gun out of his hand.

"It's alright."

"No, it's not. I don't forget, and I don't forgive. You know that."

He turned on his heels and walked away, bloodied hands hanging from his sides. Hashirama put the gun in tha back of his trousers and looked at his feet. The wind was blowing stronger, and he was starting to feel the first drops of water on his shoulders.

Izuna's death was a tragedy.

He wasn't stupid, he knew just as well as Madara that Tobirama's mark was clear on that man. This didn't change the fact Hashirama _hoped. _He _hoped _this could be solved without bloodshed. Hope was one of the things Madara had no concept of.

* * *

Meanwhile, Madara was already in his apartment. His hands playing on a new, better gun – a Springfield XD (M) 3.8 compact, it's cold metal calming his heated mind.

He was thinking of everything at once. Right now, he focused most on how he could have let Tobirama get away with his illegal line of work.

He had been... Oblivious. Lost in Hashirama, lost in his own love. He'd commited a crime worse than anything he'd done before; he'd forgotten his brother, his dear, little brother, his only family and his only _friend_... how could he have done that?

He was terrified at what else he could have missed.

That was no more. He was going to destroy Tobirama, and for the sake of Izuna, he would go as far as to-

Even-

Kill Hashi-

The image of Hashirama's bleeding chest hit him like a tank. Blood coming out of his mouth, sticking in his long hair, and his brown eyes open in a silent question...

_No. No, no, no_. Madara didn't even remember putting the gun to his own forehead, he just wanted to blow the vision out along with his brains.

He quickly threw the weapon away, and looked at his shaking hands.

Hashirama... No, no, he couldn't kill Hashirama. Whatever happened, whoever (even Izuna) made him do it, he couldn't kill that Senju.

Everyone else - definitely.

* * *

Hashirama knew about Tobirama's den.

He knew, and yet he didn't tell.

As long as he lived, he lived by the law and when he grew up, he decided he wanted to contribute to it. He became a lawyer, while Tobirama went against the common ways - he decided to do justice on his own grounds.

Tobirama had always been a bit more trigger-happy and he liked making his own rules. His mind wasn't similar to the chaotic, frantic one of a thief or arsonist, it was organised to the point of mental disorder. Maybe he had OCD. Maybe not. Fact was, Tobirama was changing the city to fit his liking (which would have been good, as he was an intelligent individual and his system made sense... but Tobirama wasn't afraid to kill, and he was actually very prejudiced when it came to the Uchiha).

He formed a mafia that he commanded and ruled. Money wasn't a problem, it seemed to be flowing in to his bank account willingly. Also, stealing from Uchihas wasn't _stealing, _right?

Despite all that, Hashirama wouldn't betray him. He couldn't.

It was his guilt, his fear, the reason he curled up pressed to Madara's side at night. Madara didn't ask. He just gently touched his hair and stroked it until Hashirama could fall asleep.

And now, as he made his way to his younger brother's base, he felt wrong. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do – he loved Tobirama as a brother, but Madara was just _that one person in the whole world he could never ever leave, not again _

_No_, he decided, _I have to do it myself. I have to talk to Tobirama and fix this, on my own. _

He didn't usually like working by himself. But this... This was personal.

"It's Hashirama Senju.", he said grimly, stern brown eyes fixed on the camera above the door. The place stunk. Like vomit and piss.

"Nara", the voice coming from the microphone introduced itself. "Come in."

With a nasty beep, he heard a series of locking mechanisms unlocking themselves to let the doors slide open.

Hashirama walked into the hideout, hands deep in the pockets of his jeans. It was dim; his brother liked it that way. Soon he heard the trickling of water, and he knew he was approaching the miniature fountain Tobirama kept in his main hall. Like Hashirama loved trees, Tobirama adored water. Every aspect of it.

"Hello."

"Tobirama."

"That's my name, not a greeting. What's your business here?", the albino Senju asked, walking out of his office and meeting Hashirama by the marble fountain.

Although Tobirama felt he lived to protect his older brother, he still didn't show it. He was much like Madara in that way. Hashirama knew. He just sort of knew these things.

"You killed Izuna Uchiha.", Hashirama announced, crossing his arms on his chest.

Tobirama glanced at him, red eyes turning from relaxed to alert.

"In life I have goals, Brother.", Tobirama's fingers played on the glass of water he was holding. "The first one is justice. The second one is elimination of the stuck-up scum that is the Uchiha family. The third one is making sure the police force in this city is keeping to its own business."

"So, as the chief of police happens to be an Uchiha, you killed him." Hashirama put his hands on his hips, making a pause. His features twisted in anger. "Do you have any _fucking _idea what you've done?"

Tobirama flinched; he liked swearing, he did it a lot, too, but he never heard his brother curse at him like that. His red eyes narrowed.

"Yes, I do.", he replied calmly.

"That was Madara's... Madara Uchiha's brother.", Hashirama clenched his fists. "You killed that man's only family. He lost his mother, his father, and three other brothers. Don't you remember what we felt after losing our-"

"Silence!", Tobirama stepped forward rapidly, his face expressing pure fury. "They are nothing like us. You should know that! Kawarama... Itama... they were both killed by Uchihas!"

"You don't _know _that, Tobirama! They're human just like us! Stop this, or I will.", Hashirama swallowed.

"And who are you to give me orders?", Tobirama glared. "You, my older brother, who refuses to acknowledge me, who never shares anything with me..."

Hashirama flinched.

"You're not exactly easy to get to"

"...You never even invited me to your wedding, and when you and your wife split up, you didn't care to tell me... You didn't say you were leaving town when you and that- that damned _Madara- spent the night in Paris! _We aren't brother's anymo-"

"You had your men _spy _on me?"

Hashirama's brow was furrowed. He took a step forwards.

Tobirama felt sweat running down the side of his face.

"It's the only way I can be sure you're alright"

"I was _fine, _Tobirama! I was fine, until you... you... now Madara is after you, and I..."

The second he said it, he knew it'd been a mistake.

Tobirama's eyes glistened.

"Hm... Finally."

In that moment, he looked so much like Madara himself that Hashirama found it terrifying.

"No, wait. You can't do this.", he said, raising his hands. "I won't let you hurt him anymore"

He didn't add that Madara would probably kill him on the spot.

"You're foolish and naive, Hashirama", the white-haired man tilted his head. "I will do what I must, don't step in my way. You chose to live by someone else's rules, damn it, you chose to _support _them- I'm not like that."

"You're delusional!", Hashirama cried. "God! You and him are both so damn stubborn!"

"Are you done now, Hashirama? If so, then leave.", Tobirama gestured with his hand.

_Leave._

Hashirama's eyes widened.

He took a step back.

There was nothing left to say or do. Madara wanted to kill Tobirama. Tobirama wanted to kill Madara. And Hashirama, as they say, couldn't do shit.

* * *

_A/N: How late am I again? Sorry, don't answer that. Look guys, school is too much for me to handle, and I deeply apologize for being so lame. The Naruto ending hit me hard too. Ouch. I'll try not to be so lame again. _

_Apologies, _

_me. _

_review please. _


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